The Fine Line Between Love and Hate
by Short-circuit-Soulmate
Summary: The Silver Marauders are the most popular group in school, consisting of Ron, Harry, Blaise and Draco. Hermione is the most unpopular girl in school. Blaise wants to discover the motivation behind Draco's constant bullying of Hermione. AU. Violence. CURRENTLY FIXING SPELLING AND GRAMMAR MISTAKES CAUSED BY 3AM UPLOADS...
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: In this story, Ron and Harry are in Slytherin, and they aren't friends with Hermione. Because of this, Hermione is still unpopular and her only friend is Neville. The Silver Marauders (named after the Marauders, but with silver because of them being Slytherin), consisting of Harry, Ron, Blaise and Draco are the popular group and make Hermione's life hell. Voldemort is not an issue, and for the sake of the story line, he wasn't resurrected in Fourth Year, and none of the events of the original stories happened. This story is completely AU. It is also a little dark at the beginning, with violence and assault, but it will brighten.  
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_**Chapter 1  
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_...in which Blaise becomes suspicious.  
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Hermione Granger sat in the library with her best friend, Neville Longbottom. They usually spent an hour or two there every day, doing their homework and starting on any assignments they were given that week. It was the beginning of 6th year, and Hermione was already preparing herself for NEWTS, and Neville, being the closest thing she had to a friend was benefiting from this, highly.

"Hey, Hermione?" Neville asked, peering up from his parchment, "Can you help me with this for a second?"

Hermione put down her own quill and moved to look at Neville's essay. She and Neville had been friends since first year. It was more a friendship out of need, though, because neither of them had any others. Hermione was depicted as the know-it-all bookworm, and Neville was viewed as 'useless'. Hermione had to admit, though, his grades were better than some because of his friendship with her.

Despite that though, they were labelled the school 'losers'. No one wanted to sit near them in class, and no one bothered to speak to them, unless it was to torment. They were their only support system, each grateful for the company they got in a school filled with people who despised them.

Hermione took the parchment, and scribbled a few notes across for Neville to work on, before handing it back, "There you go. It's quite good already, Nev."

He beamed, before gasping, and checking the clock on the wall, "Oh no, I was meant to meet Professor Sprout in the Greenhouses ten minutes ago for my extra credit." He began packing up his parchment and books, and then turned to her frowning, "You'll be alright to get back to Gryffindor tower alone won't you?"

Hermione hesitated, but smiled, "Of course. Go on, you don't want to be late."

Neville gave her one last warm smile, before racing out of the library doors. Hermione sighed. The truth was, she probably wouldn't be fine to walk back to the Tower on her own, all thanks to four boys who had made her life hell since first year.

The Silver Marauder's as they were known, were the most popular group of boys in school, despite the fact that they were all Slytherin. Harry Potter, the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team, was an arrogant ass, in Hermione's opinion. He had a constant gaggle of girls around, and he strutted, actually _strutted, _around the school as though he were the resident playboy_._ Hermione rolled her eyes at the thought.

The clown of the group was Ronald Weasley; he had his own cluster of fan-girls and played Keeper for the Slytherin Quidditch Team. Hermione wasn't certain if he ever did any homework on his own. He seemed to date a lot of girls in Ravenclaw, so she assumed they did it for him. He wasn't quite as arrogant as Potter, but he annoyed her because he was one to make jokes at her and Neville's expense.

Blaise Zabini was kind of tolerable. He was the most attractive of the group and had girls hanging off him, but the fact that he didn't play Quidditch and was more of the silent, mature type evened it out. He also never responded to admiration he received, and seemed more level headed. Hermione had been paired with him once in Potions, he was quite smart. He was the least threatening out of them all, only because when they ganged up on her, he never actually laughed or joined in. He just stood and watched, though she assumed that was just as bad.

The final member of the infamous group, and the bane of Hermione's existence was Draco Malfoy. He was Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team in which he played Chaser. He was a racist pureblood, which meant he hated Muggleborns. In other words, he hated Hermione, and boy did he show it. Hermione was certain it was because of him that she and Neville were so ostracised within the school. He'd disliked her since 1st year when she beat him in a Potions test, and ever since then he'd made her life hell.

If she walked alone in the corridors he would hex her while his friends and most of the student body laughed; if it was crowded he would knock her over and spill her books by 'accident'. The scariest was when they were alone. She remembered the last time that happened, he had pinned her against the wall by the neck, hissing menacing insults in her face while she whimpered and tried not to suffocate. He'd only stopped when they'd heard footsteps; she hated to think what would have happened otherwise.

Yes, he hated her more than he hated anyone, probably even more so than Neville, and she was always watching her back because of it. Honestly, she couldn't wait until she graduated so she didn't feel fear any longer. Hermione was brave, of course, she was a Gryffindor. But four well-built Slytherin boys against a petite girl was something she thought anyone would be scared of.

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts by Madam Pince, "Hermione, dear, it's almost curfew. I have to close up now."

The woman gave Hermione a sympathetic smile. Madam Pince was one of the few that knew what Hermione went through. Many times, she'd had to intervene when the Silver Marauders had tracked Hermione down in the library when they were bored.

Hermione tried to put on a brave face, "Oh, ok," she hesitated, standing from her seat, "I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight, Madam Pince."

Hermione packed her stuff away and swung her book back over her shoulder. As she walked out of the library doors she heard the librarian say a quick goodnight from behind her. Hermione didn't miss the warning to be careful, either.

Hermione stood outside the doors to the library, and heard them lock with a loud click. She breathed in a deep breath.

_Just relax Hermione, they're probably already in their dorms. The dungeons are as far away from Gryffindor tower as possible._

She breathed out. Hermione had been lucky lately. School had started a week ago, and she had managed to dodge them everywhere but in classes, where they couldn't do anything much anyway. She hoped her luck would continue for a while at least. She knew they wouldn't have given up harassing her; it was something they'd been doing for years.

Hermione pushed her thoughts away and began strolling down the corridor towards the shifting staircase. She couldn't see anyone around and was thankful for it. She only hoped that Neville got back without running into any of the Silver Marauders.

She turned the corner, stepping onto the staircase, and began walking up the stairs, waiting patiently for it to move to the correct landing.

Hermione's left foot had just made contact with the fifth floor landing when she heard voices and laughter echoing around the staircase. She looked up and could see a group of students on the landing above making their way down the stairs.

She recognised those voices immediately, and inwardly cringed.

It was the Silver Marauders.

She had no choice but to pass them, or hide.

She decided safety was her best option, however, and turned to race down a corridor on the fifth floor, but not before she heard a cheery voice call, "Well, look who it is!"

She didn't bother to look back; she'd recognise Weasley's voice anywhere, so in her best interest she kept racing as fast as she could to safety. She knew there was a short cut to Gryffindor tower here, somewhere down this corridor; ironically, she'd heard Weasley's twin brothers talking about it in her second year.

It was either that, or hide in the Prefects bathroom. But Malfoy was a prefect too, and she knew she'd be trapped if she went in there.

She heard footsteps racing behind her, so she started running at full pace, only to hear them begin speeding up behind her too. She saw the statue of Boris the Bewildered up ahead, and knew that the shortcut to Gryffindor tower was around here somewhere. She paused for only a moment to decide which direction to take when she felt a pair of hands grab her from behind.

She tried to pry herself free, but ended up falling to the floor and spilling her books everywhere. The boys laughed at her ungraceful fall, and she heard the sound of feminine giggles mixed in with the low hum. Looking up she saw Pansy Parkinson, and another girl she didn't recognise from Hufflepuff, laughing along with the boys.

Potter stepped over and leered down at her, "Well Granger, you've certainly changed a lot over the summer," he said, seductively eyeing her up and down, "I might have to make sure I catch you in the library alone, sometime."

Hermione shuddered at his innuendo, he would be the last person she'd do _that _with. She flinched slightly as Malfoy stepped forward and pulled Potter backwards. Hermione began to shake. The others were merely pains in the butt, but Malfoy actually scared her. He wasn't afraid to hurt her.

"That's disgusting, Potter. She's a filthy mudblood. Merlin knows what you'd catch." He spat in her direction, "Then again, I'd be surprised if anyone's actually gone near her."

He sneered down at her as the others guffawed loudly. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"You act all tough here, Malfoy, but you're probably scared of little daddy Death-Eater. Am I right?" The others behind them exchanged wary looks and Hermione knew it was the worst thing she could have mentioned. She swallowed nervously. Why couldn't she do the wise thing and keep her mouth shut, despite the truth of her words.

If possible, Draco's expression became even more sour at her words. Hermione eyed the surrounding corridor in the hopes that a patrolling prefect or teacher might see them, but she was out of luck, there was no one around.

Blaise Zabini was leaning against the stone wall behind Malfoy watching the exchange with mild interest. Potter on the other hand was making out with the Hufflepuff girl, not paying attention to Hermione at all anymore. Weasley and Pansy however, were watching with unbridled interest.

"You'll regret that, mudblood," Malfoy hissed dangerously, "Levicorpus!"

Hermione was immediately elevated upside down, hanging by her ankle. Her robes had fallen over her head and she knew her skirt had too.

"Nice knickers, Granger!" Pansy giggled, shrilly. The others laughed. All except Malfoy, she noted. He rarely laughed when he decided to torture her. It was all scowls and serious expressions.

"I always picked her for the white, virgin, cotton ones," she heard Weasley say, amused.

"Of course they are," Pansy answered, as though it was obvious, "She doesn't have girly underwear because no one wants to see her in it!"

The others broke down into laughter, excluding Malfoy who was busy levitating her. Hermione could feel herself moving through the air, and eventually she stopped.

She heard Malfoy speak the password to the prefect's bathroom, and she instantly regretted coming down this corridor. She heard the others walking behind, clearly not wanting to miss the show. While still hanging by her ankle, she heard the tap to the prefect's swimming pool-sized bathtub turn on and looking down, she saw water filling the bath, which she was now levitating above.

So they were going to dump her in the bath tub, that wasn't so bad, right? Instantly she felt the weight of her robes gone; looking up confused she saw she had been stripped down to only her underwear. She heard Potter and Weasley laugh, along with Pansy commenting about her bra being just as 'virgin' as her knickers.

"Potter, what the bloody hell did you do that for?" Growled Malfoy, who Hermione could see was glaring at the raven-haired boy.

"Well you're giving her a bath," he answered innocently; "I thought I should help her undress."

Both he and Weasley held their sides laughing, while Draco turned around shaking his head in disbelief. Zabini, Hermione noticed was leaning on the door, looking between Malfoy and herself with an odd expression.

She was pulled away from his eyes as Malfoy spoke, "Okay, Mudblood. Apologise and say you're a filthy mudblood who doesn't deserve to be taught magic, and I won't dunk you."

No matter how scared Hermione was of what Malfoy might do to her, she was a Gryffindor, and despite her Muggleborn heritage she knew she had just as much right to study magic as anyone else. She set her jaw, the same way she always did when she was being stubborn and glared at the upside down face of the blond boy in front of her.

"If I'm not worthy of learning magic, why is it I beat you every year? Are you just stupid for a pureblood or something?" The was a collective 'ooooh' from both Potter and Weasley, and she instantly regretted opening her mouth when she saw the look of anger plastered on Malfoy's face. She always knew when he was mad, because his normally pale cheeks tinged pink.

She saw him wave his wand and instantly she was dangling head first in the water, which she discovered was freezing cold, her body submerged to her waist. She tried to use her stomach muscles to pull herself out, but they weren't strong enough. She hadn't had a chance to take a breath before she was dunked and her body needed oxygen desperately, she couldn't hold her breath any longer and her bodily impulse took over and she sucked in a gasp of air, which turned out to be water.

She felt herself be pulled by the ankle out of the water a few seconds later. As she spluttered and coughed and attempted to get the water out of her airway, she heard laughing around her. Who could honestly find nearly drowning a person funny? She supposed they were Slytherins...

"Ready to say it yet, Granger?" Malfoy asked, staring at her. Hermione had no doubt now that her white cotton bra was wet and see-through, so she moved her hands to cover herself, as she continued spluttering and coughing.

"Guess not." He said, and he flicked his wand submerging her again. This time Hermione had managed to take a breath before he dunked her, yet her previous coughing fit had not ceased, so she continued choking under water.

It was times like this Hermione hated her life. She wasn't that different to them, yet they hated her anyway. She felt her emotions coming to the surface. Why couldn't they just leave her alone for once?

He pulled her back out of the water moments later. She was shivering and had only just stopped choking from her previous near drowning. She looked defiantly back at him, trying not to let him see that she really just wanted to curl in a ball and cry.

He seemed to notice, however, and if anything he seemed to like it. Not in the way Weasley and Potter enjoyed bullying her, with mere amusement, but in the way someone enjoys something they love. Like the face she was sure made when she stepped into the library. Pleasure mixed with awe.

Was he that horrible that he liked to see people cry because of him? Hermione was certain he was, after seeing it herself.

"We better go now, Malfoy. Filch comes and patrols these corridors in ten minutes," Potter opened the portrait hole and left with the Hufflepuff girl, Pansy, and Weasley. Zabini turned and left with one last glance at Hermione.

It was then only Malfoy and Hermione. He was staring at her; like he was wondering what else he could possibly do to hurt her.

"Are you going to let me down?" She asked in a shaky voice, her throat still sensitive from her near drowning, "If Filch catches you, it'll cost you your prefect badge."

Malfoy sneered, before flicking his wand and removing the levitation spell. She fell with a loud splash in the bath, and submerged moments later to find Draco still sneering down at her. She didn't want to get out with him standing there, especially since she was sure her knickers were now see through.

For one defiant moment they locked eyes. Hermione was wondering if he was reading her mind, but she was sure he wouldn't waste the skill on her. After a second she looked away, unable to stand the disgust she saw directed at her, and she saw him turn and walk out of the bathroom, leaving her cold, shivering and barely dressed.

Hermione dried herself off and dressed back in her robes. They were damp from being left on the tiled floor, but she didn't care right now. All she could do was think that if this was how the year started for her, it would only get worse from then on. She raced as fast as she could up the staircase to the Fat Lady's portrait and stepped inside.

She found Neville sitting on a seat in front of the fire. The common room was otherwise empty. When he saw her enter, looking rather dishevelled, he stood abruptly and looked at her with concern.

"Do I even need to ask what happened?" He asked, sadly. Hermione took the seat next to him basking in the warmth of the fireplace.

"When is it ever not them? They've been torturing us for years, Nev." Hermione wiped her eyes and looked at the boy next to her, "You've had to put up with them too."

Neville sighed, "I suppose, but I haven't had it nearly as bad as you have."

"I just wish they'd leave me alone." Hermione broke down sobbing, and Neville comforted her. This had become a ritual for them, to cry on the others shoulder.

"We'll be out of here soon, Hermione. You'll go on to do great things and prove them all wrong." He whispered soothingly.

Hermione knew Neville was right. She would go on to great things and this hell would be over soon, but she wished it would be sooner. The constant fear and insults and abuse were making her doubt herself.

As her tears dried, Hermione and Neville went their separate ways at the stairs. She slipped in to bed and dreamed of happy things, knowing it was the one escape she had for now.

* * *

><p>In the Slytherin dorms, Blaise Zabini lay in bed staring at the ceiling. He shared a dorm with Malfoy, Potter, Weasley and another boy they didn't bother to talk to, Goyle or something; he was thick as a brick.<p>

Potter and Weasley were currently playing exploding snap on the floor, and Draco was lying on his bed, with his hand behind his head, staring at the ceiling, much in the same fashion as Zabini.

"I really am going to have to get onto Granger," Potter began, placing a card down, "Did you see her body? Who would have ever suspected _that _tight little thing was hiding under all those robes." He shook his head in disbelief.

Blaise glanced over to see Malfoy's jaw tense, before he spoke, "Potter, stop talking about the mudblood in that way. It's disgusting to think you'd even _want _to go near her. Have some respect for yourself; even _you_ have to have some standards."

Potter scoffed, "Come on. Even you have to admit she's a pretty little thing, as long as she keeps her mouth shut, that is." Both Potter and Weasley broke out in laughter. Draco's eyes narrowed at the ceiling.

"Might have to gag her then, Harry," Ron suggested, and both the boys broke into laughter again. Blaise saw Malfoy's fist tense.

"Might have to tie her up _completely,_" Potter said, winking at the red head. Draco sat up looking ready to kill, his cheeks were tinged pink. He went to open his mouth but whatever abuse he was about to give them was drowned out by the cards exploding loudly in the faces of Potter and Weasley.

The two boys began spluttering and fanning away the smoke. "Good game," Ron commented, trying not to breathe in. They went and slipped in to their respective beds.

Draco sat staring at the dissipating smoke, an almost pained expression on his face. He looked up to see Blaise eyeing him curiously. "Sod off, Zabini," he muttered, before lying back down and rolling on his side so his face was no longer in view.

Blaise stared back at the ceiling. Malfoy was acting odd at the mention of Granger. Had something happened after they left, or did her really just despise her _that _much?

Blaise had never gotten involved in the others' bullying of Granger, and occasionally, Longbottom. He felt he was above such immature things, but he had to admit, Potter and Weasley only really went along with it because of Malfoy.

Draco had begun hating Hermione first and then they joined in later, just for the fun of it, not really because they hated her, but just for something to do. Blaise had to admit, however, the way Malfoy got when he saw Hermione or was in the middle of taunting her, was obsessive. It was like he was locked onto a target. He managed to pick her out of crowds in the corridors; it was like he was constantly looking for her.

Was he so consumed with hate that he thought about ways to make her life hell 24/7? Blaise thought otherwise. He'd seen the way he was looking at her tonight in the prefect's bathroom, like he resented her existence, but needed it at the same time. Blaise decided perhaps this was something he would need to watch out for.

Blaise picked up his wand and muttered, "Nox." The room went dark and he rolled over, listening to the sounds of snores from his roommates as he fell asleep.

* * *

><p>The next morning, the Silver Marauders were up and ready by 7:30 to go down to breakfast, excluding Potter, that is. The raven haired boy spent forever each morning attempting to fix his messy hair, but it never worked.<p>

"Would he just bloody-well give up on it already?" Muttered Weasley, he was never happy when people kept him from eating.

Draco snorted, "He was just born with feminine characteristics." The three boys snickered at their friend's expense.

Potter emerged some minutes later, much to the relief of Weasley, and they made their way out the portrait hole.

Outside the Great Hall, they were greeted by a cheery Ginny Weasley. Blaise's ears immediately pricked up whenever Ginny was nearby. He'd never let it be known, but he'd liked the Gryffindor since 4th year.

He'd talked to the red-head a lot, since he was of course best friends with her brother, and had found they got along well. The only problem was she didn't seem to show interest in him, but more in his blond best friend.

"Morning," Ginny greeted brightly, "How are you all today?"

"Starving," Ron answered grumpily, "Now move." He pushed past his sister and into the Great Hall; Potter followed giving her a quick greeting as he passed.

"Well isn't he just a ray of sunshine," she muttered sarcastically, turning back to Blaise and Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked, "Probably takes after his sister." Blaise was a little put out when he saw Ginny blush. She never did that for him.

The red-head girl began talking to Malfoy as they strolled slowly into the Great Hall. Blaise looked away from the scene, feeling a little annoyed when he spotted Granger and Longbottom, walking from the opposite direction. And it seemed he wasn't the only one.

Malfoy had turned his attention completely away from Ginny and was staring straight over her head at Granger, who hadn't even noticed them standing there as she entered the great hall. His eyes followed her all the way to her table and only then did he seem to snap out of his daze and turn back to the red-headed girl in front of him.

He slipped his arm around Ginny who, if possible, blushed even harder. Blaise felt the jealousy and anger boil inside him and was only made worse when Malfoy began whispering in her ear. Whatever he'd said elicited a nod from her and with one last smile she turned and walked to the Gryffindor table.

"Come on," Malfoy muttered to Blaise, walking with his hands in his pockets toward the Slytherin table. He spared a glance toward the Gryffindor table, thinking Blaise couldn't see. He saw Draco's eyes narrow, and Blaise followed his gaze, expecting to see Ginny.

He was surprised, however, when he saw Malfoy was watching Granger, who was laughing along with Longbottom, her head rested on his shoulder. Blaise turned back to Malfoy, to find he had turned away from the scene. Blaise narrowed his eyes, suspiciously. What was going on here?

On their way to their first lesson, Potions with the Gryffindors, they found themselves behind none other than Granger and Longbottom. Potter and Weasley barely noticed when Malfoy sped up his footsteps.

He came up fast from behind the pair and barged Longbottom in the shoulder, causing him to fall and spill his books. Malfoy's sneer, however, was directed at Granger, who was glaring at him, their eyes locked the whole time he passed. Potter and Weasley were guffawing loudly, but Blaise narrowed his eyes again. He couldn't possibly hate her _that_ much?

They moved around Granger who was now helping Longbottom pick up his books. Potter and Weasley gave a few sarcastic remarks, but Blaise stayed quiet.

In Potions, the four boys sat at the same desk. Snape walked in, slamming the door behind him.

He turned to the class, "Today we will be starting a new project," he drawled, "Who can tell me what they know about the Polyjuice Potion?"

Not surprisingly, Hermione's hand was the first, and only one that shot in the air. Snape merely looked around, ignoring her eagerness.

"No one?" He asked. Hermione raised her hand even higher, her bottom no longer on the seat.

"What about you, Longbottom?" Snape asked, eyeing Neville with disdain. The boy in question sunk in his chair, along with Granger who was disappointed about not getting picked, but was now looking worriedly towards her friend who obviously didn't know the answer. She did the unwise thing and whispered it to him.

"Miss Granger," Snape snapped, causing her to jump. Blaise heard Draco snigger. "Is your name Longbottom?"

Granger looked to down blushing and muttered, "No, sir."

"What was that, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione looked up at the professor, "No, sir." She said more loudly.

"10 points from Gryffindor for being an incessant know-it-all," Snape drawled, before he turned his attention back to the class, "Now, Polyjuice potion allows..." Snape went into a quick explanation of the potion, while many students took notes.

"I love this class," Malfoy whispered happily to the four boys, "Snape's the only one who puts that filthy mudblood in her place." He smirked, and the other two boys snickered. Blaise however stayed quiet.

"Now, I'll be splitting you into pairs for an assignment that will take one month to complete." Snape began, "You will be brewing Polyjuice potion, which as I just explained, takes one month to brew. You will also complete a theory aspect in which you will explain the potion, its use, the individual ingredients and why combining them creates the potion. Any questions?"

No one raised their hand so he continued, "When I call out your name, go and sit beside your partner."

He began to read off a list of parchment, pairing people off. There were many groans and people hesitated to move.

"...Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger..." Blaise looked over at Hermione, who looked slightly worried at the pairing, despite the fact that he'd been paired with her once before in 3rd year. He supposed the bullying had escalated a lot since then, though.

"Sucked in, Zabini," Weasley said snickering. Malfoy was oddly silent.

"...Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom..." Both Weasley and Potter had to stick their hands over their mouths to stifle their laughs. Malfoy scowled at them before turning to Blaise.

"Swap me," he hissed, not bothering to spare a look at Longbottom, who didn't look happy at all.

Blaise looked at him puzzled, "But you hate Granger?"

"Yes, but it's not as bad as Longbottom. He's an idiot." He scowled toward the boy in question.

"You could always make Potter swap you, he's with Pansy," Blaise suggested.

"Pansy's an idiot as well," Draco hissed, "Just bloody-well swap me."

"There will be no swapping partners," Snape said loudly. The boys looked up expecting Snape to be looking at them, but noticed he was actually directing it at Longbottom, who had a few girls around him trying to convince him to swap so they could be with Draco.

"Now stop your complaining and sit next to your partners," the potions teacher ordered them. Potter and Weasley moved to their partners' tables, and Blaise left a scowling Malfoy to go sit next to Hermione.

He noticed she shifted away from him a few inches as he sat down in Neville's previous seat. Looking over he noticed Malfoy looking none too pleased about the boy sitting in Blaise's previous seat.

The potion instructions appeared on the board, and the students began to prepare their work stations and gather ingredients from the cupboard.

When they started brewing their potions, Hermione and Blaise worked in silence, except for the occasional comment on what ingredient was next. Blaise noticed that Draco was still looking sulky, and Longbottom just looked plain terrified.

At the end of the lesson, Snape flicked his wand to put their cauldrons away to permeate, until the next lesson when they would need to tend to them.

"Now, you've begun the practical aspect, so I want you to begin working on the theory aspect as soon as possible. We will only be dedicating class time to tend to the potion, and to complete your other course work. The research must be done in your own time."

With that the class was dismissed. Hermione turned to Blaise.

"I'll be in the library tonight working on it, you can come or not come, I don't care. But, if you do come, you don't bring them." She spared a look toward his three friends who were exiting the classroom; Malfoy was glancing over toward them.

Blaise merely nodded, taken aback by her rude tone. He supposed however that he would be the same if he'd had to put up with the things she had.

He watched her walk out with Neville, before picking up his own bag and doing the same.

* * *

><p>That night after dinner, the four boys were relaxing in their dorms. Potter and Weasley were tossing a miniature quaffle to each other from where they were lying on their beds. Malfoy was reading a Quidditch magazine and Blaise was relaxing on his bed.<p>

"What time is it?" He asked suddenly. Draco looked up from his magazine.

"Not sure. Around 8, I think. Why?" He watched Blaise sit up and pick up his book bag.

"I'm meant to meet Granger in the library to work on the Potions assignment," Blaise stood, and placed his bag over his shoulder.

"Great, we'll come." Draco closed his magazine and stood.

"Uh," Blaise hesitated, "She sort of specifically asked me to come alone."

Draco's eyes narrowed, "Why does she want to see you alone?"

"Well she didn't say that...she just asked not to bring any of you." Blaise said. Draco let out a bark of laughter; the other two boys smirked.

"Why, is little Granger scared of us, is she?" Weasley asked in a cooing voice.

Potter and Malfoy snickered. Blaise sighed, "I dunno. Could you really blame her if she is?"

Draco turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Since when do you stick up for the mudblood? Last time I checked, you never stepped in to stop us when we've taunted her."

"I'm not sticking up for her; I'm just saying if I want to get this assignment done, you can't come." Blaise turned to leave, but Malfoy spoke up.

"Well Longbottom's my partner and no doubt he's up there with her, so I think I will come." He picked up his book bag and swung it over his shoulder, brushing past Blaise out the door.

Blaise sighed and followed him out.

* * *

><p>In the Library, Hermione was sitting at her usual table with Neville. They were working on a Herbology assignment currently, in which they had to explain the magical properties of a list of plants they'd been given. This was the one subject Neville excelled at, and Hermione always noticed the twinkle in his eyes when he spoke of the subject.<p>

Hermione was wondering if Zabini would actually meet her, she thought he might not, after all he was a Silver Marauder and if he was anything like the others he probably hated her and would rather hang out with Moaning Myrtle then work on an assignment with her.

The Gryffindor was surprised, however, when she saw Zabini emerge from behind the bookcases and head toward her table. That surprise quickly turned to anger and a bit of nervousness when she saw Draco Malfoy trailing behind him.

Neville seemed just as unimpressed by the whole situation, and was eyeing the two with apprehension.

"Granger," Zabini nodded toward her, before turning to Neville and nodding, "Longbottom."

Neither said anything and Hermione scowled at the Italian. "Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

The two Slytherins sat in the only two vacant seats at the table, Malfoy looking like he didn't want to be there at all, as it might risk his reputation. This confused Blaise, as he'd practically insisted he come.

"I'll go find a book," Hermione said, trying not to let her anger show. Neville gave her a look as if to say 'Don't leave me!' but she was far too annoyed to notice.

She began wandering the shelves, running her finger along the titles of books. She pulled one off the shelf and began flicking through it when she noticed someone standing behind her out of the corner of her eye. She turned to find Blaise Zabini looking down at her.

"Why are you standing there?" She whispered harshly, not wanting to cut through the peaceful silence of the library.

"Don't be pissed. I told him not to come, but he insisted." Blaise replied, not bothering to lower his voice.

"I'm sure," Hermione countered, sarcastically.

Blaise went to speak, but was interrupted by a drawl from behind him.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" Malfoy sneered, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

Blaise looked at him like he was being ridiculous. Hermione merely narrowed her eyes at him and turned to walk down the aisle and around the corner to the adjacent book shelf. She kept one ear pricked at their whispered conversation.

"You were looking pretty cozy," Hermione could hear the disgust in Malfoy's voice, "Don't tell me you've got a thing for the mudblood?" Hermione flinched slightly at the horrid name.

She heard Blaise scoff. "Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy." She heard the sound of footsteps walking off, and turned back to her perusal of the shelves.

She froze as she noticed a tall shadow block her light from behind; she turned and looked up to find the sneering face of Draco Malfoy looking down at her.

She attempted to walk away but he reached out and grabbed her around the wrist, causing her to wince at the pain. He began to walk toward her effectively pinning her to the book shelves. This was a purely intimidating stance however, though she expected any other girl might enjoy it. She was near-trembling with fear.

"What's the matter, mudblood? Don't you like me touching you?" He hissed close to her face and she felt the heat on her ear. "It's me who should be disgusted, though." He continued, sneering down at her.

"Leave me alone," she managed to say, though she was quite scared.

He let out a menacing chuckle, "Oh right, you only want Zabini touching you. The little mudblood has standards."

She managed to forget her fear for one ridiculous second to scoff at him, "You honestly think he would go near me?"

He looked her up and down for a moment, then stepped back, "It better stay that way, Granger. Potter may have no standards when it comes to girls because he's a half-blood, but pure-bloods don't associate with mudblood filth like you."

"What's your point?" She asked, feeling a little hurt at his words, but feeling much more confident now that he wasn't in her personal space. While he was quite attractive (though she'd never admit it freely), she'd only ever associated his presence with torture.

"My point is, don't start thinking that because Zabini doesn't sneer at you, that it means you're something special. It doesn't mean you're pretty, or that anyone wants you, it just means he's put aside his prejudice for a while to work with you. Got it, mudblood?"

He stared down at her and Hermione stared defiantly back. He was such an arrogant git. Right now he wasn't scaring her; he was just being a nuisance.

Hermione turned to storm away from him, but once again her arm was gripped in his hand tightly as he spun her around causing her to collide straight into his chest. He was much taller than her, so all she could see and feel was the structure of his body.

There was an odd moment where he looked down at her, his eyes void of disgust, and Hermione looked up at him, quite shocked to see his face in such a relaxed way.

The moment passed quickly however and as Hermione recoiled from him he pushed her away, hard, causing her to fall on her back on the stone floor. She felt a pain shoot through her chest instantly.

Malfoy didn't hesitate as he strode off out of the rows of shelves, leaving Hermione lying on the ground. Once alone, she sat up though she was having difficulty breathing. She felt as though she'd broken a rib from falling so hard on the floor, but she knew it wasn't that serious.

She moved to a crouching position, clutching herself around the chest and attempted to breathe steadily.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" She looked up to see Neville crouching down beside her, looking concerned, "What did he do this time?"

Hermione merely shook her head, she wasn't sure she could talk right now without extreme pain. Neville placed an arm around her and helped her stand, though she was rather crouched over and breathing in small intakes, as she found breathing deeply hurt too much.

"I'll take you to the Hospital Wing." He said as they walked out of the shelves toward their table, which was, Hermione noticed unhappily, still occupied by the two Slytherins. As they made their way over to the table Blaise looked up.

He eyed her stature and her quick breaths, and instantly sent a sideways glance to Malfoy who was pointedly staring at his quill like they weren't even there.

"I'm taking her to the hospital wing," Neville told the two boys, sounding as though he were trying to hold back his anger. Hermione found it unnecessary though, it was not as though they would care. She did notice however that Malfoy looked up, and took in her pained expression, before looking back down. Hermione found it odd that his eyes weren't filled with the pleasure he got the last time he'd caused her bodily harm. She almost thought she saw a look of regret, but upon a second glance she'd realised she must have mistaken it for indifference.

As Hermione and Neville hobbled away slowly; with Neville carrying both of their bags on his shoulder, Blaise turned to Malfoy.

"So what did you do now?" He asked, not bothering to act as though he was surprised.

Draco's eyes shot to his with a look of scorn, "Concerned about her safety?"

Blaise scoffed, "Bloody hell, what is it with you and thinking that I've got a thing for her?" He snapped, impatiently, "You seem worried that I might!"

Draco sent a particular nasty look his way, "Perhaps I am worried. I don't want to be seen with people who associate with that filth."

Blaise laughed dryly, "Really? Because that's not the impression I'm getting."

Draco leaned back resting his chair on two legs; he stared at the Italian almost daring him to continue, "And what is the impression you're getting, Zabini?" he asked, barely keeping the anger out of his voice.

"Well, you're always talking about her. It's pretty obsessive. If I wasn't so sure you hated her, I'd say you might like her, with the way you act."

Draco's chair slammed back down on to four legs with a large bang that echoed throughout the library as he scowled at the boy in front of him. Students around had looked up from their work, and he could hear Madam Pince storming over.

"You're fucking lucky you're my friend," hissed Draco, before packing his things just in time for the librarian to grab him by the back of his robes and pull him toward the library doors.

Blaise sat at the table alone, staring at his quill for some time. He had noticed odd things about Draco in respect to Hermione lately. Though, it had always been like that...

Could he really like her, or possibly _love_ her? Blaise didn't want to think that was the case, because if that was the way he acted toward someone he loved...

Blaise was broken from his thoughts by Ginny Weasley taking a seat at his table. The usually chirpy girl was looking rather disconcerted.

"Hey Blaise," she greeted, rather flatly than usual. She didn't greet him with her usual bright smile.

"What's wrong?" Blaise asked, eyeing her. She really was beautiful, he couldn't count the number of times he'd wanted to reach out and run his hands through her shiny hair. He wondered if it was a soft as it looked.

"Oh, nothing," she said half-heartedly, "You haven't seen Draco have you? I've been looking for him everywhere."

Blaise's heart sank; of course she was looking for Draco. While Blaise had his own horde of fan-girls, mostly Ravenclaws because of his intelligence; he'd never actually been interested in them. The one girl he wanted spent all her time chasing his friend. What luck he had. "He left here about 20 minutes ago."

"He was here?" She asked, surprised, "He was supposed to meet me in the Astronomy tower tonight?" She looked down blushing. Everyone knew what happened in the Astronomy tower.

Blaise nodded, though he felt a bit ill at the thought of Ginny and Draco. "Right."

They fell into an awkward silence.

It was odd that Draco would pass up a rendezvous with Ginny to spend his night studying in the library. This only brought his thoughts back to one thing.

"Ginny, you're a girl." He began, she smiled half amused at his observation, it sounded like something her brother would say, "Could someone still like a person, even if they torment them constantly?"

Ginny broke into a sly grin, "Has some girl been bullying you, Blaise?"

Blaise smirked, not the least bit embarrassed, "Maybe." He lied. He didn't want to tell her about his suspicions, as she seemed to have invested some feelings into Draco, it would only hurt her.

Ginny chuckled. "Well to answer your question; yes. It could mean they like you. Haven't you ever done that? Teased the girl you like?"

Blaise shook his head; he'd always been mature, even when he was younger. Ginny gave him a surprised look.

"Well most guys do it at some point."

"Why?" He questioned. It seemed odd to him that if you liked someone, you'd be mean to them.

"Well, sometimes it's to get the girls attention when they're too scared to tell her they like her," Ginny started, thoughtfully, "or it could be that they're in denial about it."

"In denial?" Blaise questioned, thinking back to his previous encounter with Draco.

"Sure, they might be mean to them to cover the fact that they like her, because they're ashamed or something," Ginny said, not quite interested, "They say there's a fine line between love and hate, you know."

"Right," Blaise said, deep in thought. Ginny gave him an odd look, before sighing.

"I should go. I'll see you later, Blaise. If you see Draco, tell him I was looking for him." She stood and left. Blaise didn't even watch her leave as he became enthralled in his suspicions.

* * *

><p>When Blaise got back to his dorms, he found them empty except for Draco who was lying on his bed, staring at his ceiling.<p>

"Where's Potter and Weasley?" Blaise asked as she made to lie on his own bed.

"Meeting up with some girls," Draco said, never once taking his eyes from the roof. At least he wasn't still pissed about before, not noticeably pissed, anyway.

"Right." Blaise commented, barely interested. "Speaking of which, Ginny was looking for you...says you were supposed to meet up tonight." He finished, rather uncomfortably.

"Huh? Oh yeah, forgot about that." Draco said, sounding bored. Blaise felt a little annoyed at his friends lack of concern. If it was him, he _certainly_ wouldn't forget to meet Ginny.

"She seemed upset," Blaise continued, feigning indifference.

"So? She's just a girl who wants to jump my bones, I'm sure she'll get over it." Draco said impatiently, "I'll just ask her out again tomorrow and she'll be all over me, no big deal."

Blaise bristled in anger, but stayed quiet. He was used to Draco's indifference about girls, but when it came to Ginny he was highly sensitive. The only girl Draco had focused on for longer than a month was Granger.

He'd been torturing her for years, and he never seemed to tire of it. Blaise supposed it must be a different sort of satisfaction, but overall, Hermione was the only girl that had managed to keep Draco interested, though not intentionally, for more than a few weeks.

Blaise thought about what Ginny had said. Could Draco be in denial? Could he not even realise he liked her? Did he even like her at all? Blaise wasn't sure, but he was going to find out.

* * *

><p>Hermione left the hospital wing that night feeling much better. Her fall had apparently resulted in a bruised lung which could be easily fixed with a few potions. Neville had insisted she tell the nurse what had happened, but Hermione had told her that she tripped over a book in the library. It was close to the truth...at least, she was in the library when it happened.<p>

Hermione was more worried about the awkward moment she'd had with Malfoy. For a moment she'd almost forgotten who he was and how horrible he was, but only for a short moment. It still made her uncomfortable though, to think she'd been that close to him.

She smirked at she thought of him scrubbing himself clean to get the 'mudblood germs' off of him. What a complete git he was. And Zabini! He was just as bad, turning a blind-eye to his friend's behaviour.

What's more, it frustrated her that Malfoy harassed her so much that he was now a regular thought of hers. She mentally slapped herself for letting them get to her. She knew that's what they wanted, and she'd be damned if she would let it happen.

Both Blaise and Hermione went to bed that night thinking of ways to change things, and what things needed to change.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please review and let me know what you think!<strong>_

_**Cheers.  
><strong>_

_-Leni_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

_...in which Draco gets the wrong idea._

Quidditch season had fallen upon Hogwarts once again, and already Blaise was sick to death of hearing about it. Since the announcement had been made for try-outs, every single conversation Blaise had with his friends was quickly ruined by Quidditch talk. He supposed being friends with three players of the Slytherin Quidditch team had something to do with it.

"Well you two are definitely shoe-ins," Draco said confidently to Weasley and Potter as they walked to breakfast one morning.

The two boys let out howls of celebration, causing many girls around them to giggle at their antics. They didn't notice, however, or they were just used to the attention and didn't care.

"What about you, Zabini?" Draco continued, smirking at the Italian who had been quiet during the conversation, "Sure you don't wanna try out this year? You do have good flying skills."

Weasley and Potter murmured in agreement. Blaise ignored them, they tried to convince him to try-out every year, but he never had. He hadn't felt Quidditch was an important thing to be focused on; he placed much more importance on intellect.

"Come on, Zabini!" Weasley whined, "You beat us all this summer when we played at Malfoy's. You've got natural skill, why don't you use it!"

They made their way to the Slytherin table and began dishing themselves breakfast.

"I've told you a million times, I'm not trying out." Blaise stated firmly, scooping scrambled eggs onto his plate.

"Come on," Draco complained, before looking around and leaning forward, "I can guarantee you a spot."

Blaise shook his head tiredly, "Doesn't it defeat the purpose of try-outs if you're just going to give the positions to your friends? I thought it was about skill?"

Weasley and Potter looked offended at his insinuation that they didn't have skill, Blaise ignored them, however; he knew they would get on the team whether they were friends with the Captain or not.

Draco smirked. "It _is_ about skill, and you're better then all of the idiots who'll try out. Come on!" Draco insisted, in one last attempt to convince the Italian.

"Not gonna happen." Blaise said, with finality in his tone. The other boys grumbled at him, but eventually stopped like they did every year, knowing it was a lost cause. They continued breakfast chatting about the try-outs the next day and the upcoming game in two weeks between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Blaise zoned out for the rest of breakfast.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke later than usual that morning; she was typically one of the first down to breakfast, but had allowed herself to sleep in for once, given that she'd be up later that night with her prefect duties. She dressed and brushed her hair, delighting in the way a few spells could smooth such a monstrosity.<p>

Hermione wasn't sure how much she'd actually changed over the summer, but she had noticed that she'd been getting a few looks from the male population that were not of ridicule or disgust, in fact if Hermione had more experience with males she might have realised that they were actually checking her out. Being modest, naive Hermione though, she merely thought she must have had something stuck in her teeth. She smiled in the mirror to make sure she didn't, anyway, before making her way down to the common room where Neville was waiting to walk with her to the Great Hall.

The two chatted animatedly about the upcoming Hogsmeade visit in two weeks. It was a large topic of conversation amongst students as well, but given that Quidditch try-outs were tomorrow and the first game was in two weeks, just a day before the weekend, it had been pushed to the side. Hermione and Neville, however, not being Quidditch fans at all were focusing purely on what they would do at Hogsmeade.

They made their way to the entrance hall when Hermione noticed the group of boys she hated exiting the doors. Neville noticed too, and immediately tensed.

"Just ignore them," Hermione muttered to him keeping her eyes ahead, "Don't look at them, and don't acknowledge their pathetic presence at all."

She'd decided last night that she would just ignore the boys for as long as possible. Normally, she would glare at them or tell them to shut up, which would encourage them further, so she did what she wished and pretended that they didn't exist.

As they passed the boys who were surrounded by a few girls, Hermione heard Draco call, "Morning Mudblood! You're looking horrible as usual."

The girls around Draco giggled in amusement, but Hermione simply kept her eyes forward, acting like she'd never heard him and kept walking into the hall.

"Are you deaf, mudblood?" Draco hissed. Hermione almost broke her whole act when she felt the urge to smirk at the clear frustration in his voice, but didn't and entered the hall.

Once they reached their table, Neville said, "Why didn't we just do that before?"

He and Hermione shared a small chuckle and dug into their breakfast.

* * *

><p>Outside the hall, Blaise was secretly amused by Hermione's antics, especially the affect they had on his platinum-haired friend.<p>

Draco _had_ been in a rather good mood that morning. With the prospect of Quidditch try-outs the next day and the fact that the first game was coming up, he'd been happily flirting with girls as they and many other groups hung outside the Great hall. Now, however, Blaise noticed Draco was about as happy as a Hippogriff who'd had its feathers plucked out.

Blaise had noticed it was Hermione's blatant ignorance of their daily remarks that set him off. Blaise had also noticed that a few members of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team thought the fact that Granger basically made Draco look like a fool, was hilarious.

"Let's go," Draco muttered moodily, glaring at the Hufflepuff Seeker, Wayne Hopkins, who was smirking.

In passing, Blaise heard Hopkins say, "I don't know what that stupid git Malfoy's on about anyway, Granger's nowhere near ugly. Bloody hell..."

There were murmurs of agreement from his group of friends. Blaise was sure Draco had heard this too, because his cheeks suddenly tinged pink and his hands balled into fists.

"Who the bloody hell does she think she is?" Draco hissed, as they walked down the stairs to the dungeons.

"Don't worry about it, mate," Weasley said, sounding far more relaxed than Draco, "She's just playing a little game, trying to pretend like she doesn't care what we say. She'll snap soon enough."

Draco still did not look comforted. Blaise was sure that his daily feuds with Hermione were one of the highlights of his day, and if Blaise was correct about his assumptions on Draco's real view of Hermione, he could only imagine that Draco was not sure what to do with himself 'til then.

Blaise, however, was not sure of what Draco really thought, so took his friends annoyance at face-value and assumed it was because he couldn't get a reaction from Granger. They prepared themselves for that day's lesson, and left the dungeons.

They were about to leave the castle and head to the greenhouses for Herbology, when Blaise spotted Hopkins and his friends heading up the stairs.

He quickly turned back to his friends, "Oi, I've gotta use the bathroom. I'll catch up. Tell Sprout where I am."

The other boys nodded and continued walking to Herbology; Blaise, however, turned and headed up the staircases after Hopkins and his friends.

* * *

><p>The day passed quickly for Hermione and soon enough she was in the library that night finishing off as much homework as she could before she started patrolling the corridors. Rounds were taken in turns and were often switched around. Hermione was lucky that she was mostly always placed with a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw prefect for their rounds.<p>

She'd just put the finishing touches on her Arithmancy homework and began to pack up her things, when she noticed someone standing in front of her. She groaned inwardly, thinking it was one of those foolish Slytherin boy's, but was quite shocked when she saw Wayne Hopkins, Seeker for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team standing in front of her.

He was tall, with lean muscle that could be seen through his shirt. His skin was golden from exposure to the sun. His hair was short and strawberry blond, with lighter streaks through it, again, from the sun. He had a friendly smile, twinkling blue eyes, and a dusting of freckles across his nose.

All in all, he was quite handsome, which was why Hermione was thoroughly confused at why he was looking at _her_.

"Hello, Hermione," The boy began in a husky voice that didn't seem to match his appearance.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow, "Hello," she said quite plainly. She'd never spoken to him before, so she wasn't quite sure what his intentions were.

He leaned himself against Hermione's table and she couldn't help but notice his toned arms as he placed one beside her.

"I know we haven't spoken before," he began, "But I have noticed you around. I was actually wondering if you'd like to come to Hogsmeade with me?" He gave her a dazzling grin that Hermione was sure melted all the girls' hearts, but it really didn't have any effect on her.

"Oh...uh...well it's really nice of you to ask, but-," She was cut off by him standing, grinning at her.

"Great! I guess I'll see you then?" Hermione stared at him shocked, she'd said less than 15 words and none of them were anything close to 'yes'. She merely nodded, uncertainly. What could it hurt to say yes?

"Excellent! I'll see you round, Hermione." He gave her one last grin as he wandered off back through the shelves. Hermione shook her head in disbelief before gathering her things and exiting the library.

"Did she say yes?" Blaise asked impatiently as Hopkins rounded the corner to where he was standing next to the Transfiguration section.

"I didn't give her the option of saying no," Hopkins grinned wolfishly and Blaise scoffed.

"Right. Well here," he handed the boy a pouch of Galleons, "You better go through with it, otherwise you'll regret it." Blaise threatened.

"I don't see why you're paying me to ask out Granger, anyway...I probably would have done it for free, but a deal's a deal," he said quickly, pocketing the money.

Blaise scoffed again and left the Hufflepuff as he walked out of the library. It had taken quite some time to convince Hopkins to ask Granger out, mainly because everyone knew not to trust a Slytherin.

Once Blaise had convinced him that he wasn't the target of the plan, he'd agreed, with a bit of convincing from a pouch of Galleons of course. Blaise was interested to see what Draco's reaction would be if Hermione was 'dating' someone else, it would let him know for sure what his friends intentions were, because he knew he would never find out simply through asking.

* * *

><p>Blaise entered his dorm room to find Potter and Weasley bustling around getting ready. Potter was desperately trying to flatten his hair in the mirror of the adjoining bathroom.<p>

"What are you two up to, tonight?" Blaise asked, settling himself on his bed.

Ron turned to him, straightening the collar of his shirt, "Padma Patil invited us all to a party in Ravenclaw tower; its Michael Corner's birthday I think, but any excuse for a party, right?" The red-head grinned, and stepped into the bathroom, just as a frustrated Harry exited.

"You coming, Zabini?" Harry asked, making a last attempt as flattening his hair.

"I dunno," Blaise answered, leaning back against the bed head.

"Aw, come on, its Friday night! Nothing interesting is going to happen here, and you know how much those Ravenclaw girls fawn over you, especially." Potter finished with a wink in his friends direction.

Blaise snorted in amusement. It was true; Ravenclaw girls favoured him over the others. While they did like all the boys, they seemed to have a soft spot for him especially.

"Yeah, alright," Blaise agreed after a moment, "wouldn't hurt, would it?" Potter grinned, as Blaise began getting ready.

"Oi, have you seen Malfoy?" Potter asked suddenly, turning to Blaise, who was going through his draws finding something to wear.

"Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since dinner," Blaise answered. That was odd.

Weasley stepped out of the bathroom, "Malfoy here yet? He's gonna miss the party if he doesn't turn up soon."

The boys continued getting ready, until 5 minutes later when Draco walked through the door.

"Finally!" Cried Ron, "We were gonna leave without you, you were taking that bloody long!"

Draco, who seemed to be in a slightly better mood than he was that morning, gave Weasley a look like he was an idiot, "What are you on about, Ginger?"

Weasley groaned, while the others snickered at the nickname Draco had called him.

"We're invited to a party in Ravenclaw tower," Weasley said, impatiently, "There's going to be drinks there stronger than butter beer, and you know how I love my Ravenclaw ladies." Weasley grinned slyly, while the others snorted in amusement.

"You won't be getting too many of those Ravenclaw ladies with Zabini around." Potter added, patting Weasley on the shoulder, "Sorry, mate."

Weasley scoffed, "We'll see. They may love Zabini's 'intellect', but they haven't seen my determination." The red-head said, looking smug.

The others snickered. "So you're going to annoy them until they go out with you?" Potter asked, barely masking his amusement.

"Well I won't be doing anything if Malfoy doesn't get his ass moving and get ready, Padma is going to meet us outside the portrait hole in ten minutes to let us in. Hurry up!" Ron threw his pillow at Draco, who dodged it easily.

"Sorry boys, can't make it. I've got Prefect duties tonight." He stepped into the room and set his bag down.

"Since when do you have Prefect duties?" Asked Ron, narrowing his eyes.

"Since the Ravenclaw prefect asked me to take her spot so he could go to that party. My duties were tomorrow night, but since try-outs are tomorrow, I'll probably be too tired to do it then." He shrugged.

"Why would you agree to take them up tonight, you could go to the party yourself!" Cried Ron, scandalized.

Draco shrugged again, "Like I said, it was convenient. I've gotta go meet my partner in the hall now, anyway."

"Who's patrolling with you?" Asked Blaise, suddenly.

Draco turned to him, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment, before masking his face with a look of casual indifference, "Just some girl." He turned away from Blaise's penetrating stare.

"I'll see you idiots later." Draco said. He gave one last quick glance at Blaise before turning and walking out of the dorm.

"Well," said Weasley looking at the two remaining Silver Marauders, "Shall we get going?"

The others nodded and stood, making their way out of the dungeons and all the way up to Ravenclaw tower.

* * *

><p>Hermione was currently standing in the Great Hall twirling her wand between her fingers. Tonight was her night on prefect duties, and looking at the schedule she was partnered with Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw in her year. Mandy seemed to be running late, and Hermione was thinking perhaps she would just start without the girl so she didn't finish up too late.<p>

Hermione let out a sigh and stood up from the table, heading toward the doors of the Great Hall. She had just opened them and stepped out when she came face to face with Draco Malfoy. She yelped in surprise and promptly stepped away from him.

"What are you doing out? It's past curfew." She tried to make her voice sound intimidating but failed; she was far too worried that she might end up with another bruised lung, or worse.

Malfoy scowled at her, "I'm a prefect too, Granger. Besides, I'm patrolling tonight."

Hermione eyes widened, "No you aren't! I looked at the schedule, Mandy's with me tonight." How would she possibly spend tonight in the presence of Malfoy without being seriously injured?

The Slytherin rolled his eyes, "Well the schedule has changed hasn't it. Now let's get this over with, I don't wanna spend more time near you then I have to."

Hermione glared at him and pushed past, making her way out the door to the entrance, "Well hurry up." She hissed looking back at him still standing at the door of the Great Hall.

He made his way over to her, his face sneering.

She crossed her arms, "If you hex me tonight, or do anything, I'll tell McGonagall. Now, you take that side of the grounds, I'll take this side." She pointed both right and left, "We'll meet up in the middle to go back inside and start on the floors."

Malfoy merely began walking in the direction she'd pointed. Hermione glared daggers into his back, before turning and making her way in the other direction.

* * *

><p>Up in Ravenclaw tower, Blaise was not having a good time. He was sitting with a bottle of butter beer on one of the couches in the Ravenclaw common room. He was currently being fawned over by two seventh year girls, one sixth year, and occasionally he got a flirty smile from a fifth year. He was pretending to listen to one of the seventh years, a blonde haired girl with green eyes, who was talking to him about her beach house in Brazil. He assumed she was a pureblood.<p>

He looked around him; Potter and Weasley were on separate sides of the room trying to pick-up. Blaise noticed that it looked like they were both hitting the fire whiskey quite hard, and wondered whether they remembered that they had Quidditch try-outs tomorrow morning.

He continued looking around the room; there were a few Gryffindors as well as Hufflepuffs, and Blaise noticed Wayne Hopkins, the Hufflepuff Seeker getting rather cosy with a Ravenclaw girl that Blaise didn't recognise in the corner. He almost thought about walking over there to inform him that for the current time, he was supposed to be dating Hermione Granger.

He was interrupted from his thoughts, however, by Mandy Brocklehurst squeezing in beside him on the couch, much to the annoyance of the blonde haired seventh year who grumbled, but moved away to get more butter beer.

"Hey, Blaise," Mandy greeted brightly, "How've you been? I haven't spoken to you in a while."

Blaise and Mandy had often been paired together for assignments in classes they shared. Blaise liked her because, unlike many of the other Ravenclaw girls, she seemed to retain her brain when speaking to him. He'd often found Mandy to be a riveting conversationalist, and was always genuinely pleased when he got the chance to have a chat with her.

"I know," Blaise nodded, "Not since that duel in Defence at the end of last year. Which I kicked your ass in, may I remind you." He smirked as she scoffed, "I've been alright though. How've you been?"

"That's good to hear. Oh, I've been good. Summer holidays were ok, my family went to France. I got sick though. Food poisoning from trying Escargot, so I didn't enjoy it much." She wrinkled her nose.

"Escargot?" Blaise asked, curious as to what type of food she was speaking about.

She shook her head, laughing lightly, "You'd never look at me the same if I told you," she joked.

Blaise grinned. Mandy leaned back and took a sip of Butter beer, looking around the room before turning back to face him, "I'm surprised you're here, actually. It's like entering a lion's den for you especially."

Blaise smirked, "Well I had no other plans for my Friday night, so I thought I'd risk it. I should probably thank you for saving me before. I think blondie over there," he motioned to the seventh year, whose name he'd forgotten, "was a few seconds away from proposing."

Mandy laughed loudly, "Well you should consider yourself lucky that Malfoy came and asked to swap patrol duties, otherwise you might be planning your wedding right now." She smirked again before sipping on her butter beer.

Blaise stared at her for a moment. Malfoy had asked to change duties? He'd made out as though he had been asked to swap, and just agreed. Perhaps he was very serious about not being tired after try-outs tomorrow...

He was pulled from his thoughts by a loud crash. Looking up, he saw Potter and Hopkins sparring quite crazily on the floor. The table filled with butter beer had been knocked over and a couple of males, including Weasley and one of Hopkins' teammates were trying to pull them apart.

Mandy and Blaise raced over and began to assist in breaking up the fight, which was a feat in itself since everyone had crowded around them. Blaise pulled a rather drunk Potter off the floor, who'd sustained a cut lip, and turned to Mandy, "We should probably get out of here before Flitwick comes."

Mandy nodded, and turned back to the scene where a drunken Hopkins was yelling profanities at Harry. Harry, who was literally being dragged out by Ron and Blaise, was attempting to escape their grasps so he could get back to plant his fist in the other Seekers face.

Blaise literally shoved Potter out of the portrait hole, causing the drunken boy to stumble and nearly fall on his ass as they stepped out themselves.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" Growled Ron, rounding on the bespectacled boy.

"He's a bloody git!" Harry cried angrily, slurring slightly, "Started saying how he's going to kick my ass in the first game! Said my form was off and that I couldn't catch a cold in winter!"

Blaise shook his head in disbelief, "You started a fight because he was, so obviously, trying to goad you?"

Harry was quiet for a moment, before saying, "I didn't start the fight. He did. I stole his girlfriend tonight, the one he was all over. She left him to get another butter beer, so I swept in to piss him off, and turns out she liked me better." He shrugged, looking smug.

Weasley patted him on the back, "Good work, mate. Very cunning of you."

Blaise sighed, "That's not his girlfriend. He's _meant _to be dating Granger." Blaise knew the story of the fight would be out in the morning, so he only hoped Potter and Blaise would add the rumour of Hopkins and Granger in when they told people. He needed Malfoy to believe they were dating.

Weasley and Potter shared a look, before breaking out into wild laughter. Blaise stood with his arms crossed, waiting for them to stop. Some moments later, they did, both wiping tears of mirth from their eyes.

"I can't believe he's seeing Granger!" Potter cried, laughing again.

"Well at least you don't have to worry about him catching the snitch in the first game," Weasley began, snickering, "He's clearly blind. Well, blinder than you." He said motioning to the glasses upon Potters nose. The latter gave a look of annoyance, but before an argument could start Blaise broke in.

"Can you two shut up?" he asked, massaging his temples, "We've been standing in the one spot for the last 15 minutes because of your non-stop idiocy. I swear you both should have been placed in Gryffindor." Blaise began walking down the corridor toward the staircase.

The two boys looked highly offended, before following their friend. They made it onto the fifth floor landing after a very long and stumbled walk, in which Blaise had very nearly hexed them both.

"Holy shit, I'm bleeding!" Potter exclaimed, suddenly. Both boys turned to face their friend, who was dabbing his lip with his finger.

"You only just realised that?" Blaise asked, almost amused.

"We should probably make a quick stop to the hospital wing, don't want it to ruin your form tomorrow." Weasley commented, sounding rather sober now.

"How could a split lip possibly ruin his form?" Blaise asked incredulously.

Weasley shrugged, "Don't wanna take any risks."

Potter agreed, and so it was settled, they would make a stop on the third floor to visit the Hospital Wing and get Potter's cut healed.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Hermione was having a horrible night. If it wasn't for the presence of Draco Malfoy, it might not be so. They were currently patrolling the third floor, separately of course, as Hermione had suggested they split up to reduce the chance of killing each other. Malfoy had merely walked in the other direction without a word.<p>

Hermione had to admit that the Slytherin was extremely odd. Half the time he was threatening to hex her, but tonight he'd been unusually quiet. She thought she could see him glancing at her from the corner of his eye a couple of times. Though she assumed being in her presence was torture for him; he was probably fighting the urge to hex her, or at least trip her over.

Hermione had just passed the Hospital Wing when she heard talking coming from around the corner. She stopped and crossed her arms, waiting to scold whoever it was for being out after curfew.

She lost all sense of confidence; however, when she saw the remaining three members of the Silver Marauders turn the corner, before stopping abruptly when they noticed her.

Potter and Weasley broke into identical, mischievous grins, while Blaise looked at her surprised.

"It's past curfew, you know. Why are you out?" She asked, trying to sound authoritative.

"Why are _you_ out?" Blaise countered. Hermione turned her eyes from looking disgusted at Potter, who smelt strongly of Fire Whiskey, to Blaise.

"I'm patrolling tonight, so I have a reason to be out," she said, haughtily, "You three, however, do not. Five points from Slytherin-each." She added, barely hiding her satisfied smirk.

Weasley and Potter groaned, while Blaise furrowed his brow at her. She was patrolling tonight? And Draco had asked Mandy to swap him? It all seemed like too much. Perhaps Draco didn't know Hermione was patrolling tonight, maybe he'd swapped and then realised too late? Blaise didn't know, but he knew it would be clear once Draco found out about Hermione and Wayne Hopkins.

Almost as if reading the topic of Blaise's thoughts, Potter spoke up.

"Come on Granger, don't act like you don't have a naughty side," he sauntered toward her, she looked him up and down with a look of disdain on her face, and stepped away, "We know about you and that git, Hopkins." Hermione blushed, looking horrified.

"Personally, I think you should have come to me first. I have way more skill then him, and not just with catching a snitch..." Potter smirked and grabbed her around the waist pulling her to him.

"Potter, what the bloody-hell are you doing?" Malfoy had just rounded the corner and the first thing his eyes landed on was Potter trying to feel up Granger.

Everyone stopped to look at Malfoy, except for Hermione who used the opportunity to push Potter away from her, though he still seemed to keep a tight hold of her waist. Blaise noticed Draco seemed to narrow his eyes at this before turning to them.

Potter laughed, "I was just showing Granger that she should've picked me instead of that stupid prat Hopkins. I got in a fight with him tonight, he's a major asshole."

"Hopkins?" Malfoy asked incredulously. Blaise noticed he glanced at Hermione, before looking at Potter.

"Yep, I got him right in the nose," Potter boasted proudly.

"Good for you," Draco said, rather patronisingly, "But what's this about the mudblood and Hopkins?" He laughed, though Blaise thought it seemed forced. Blaise also noticed he had a rather sick expression on his face, like he's just swallowed something that didn't agree with him.

Potter turned back to Hermione and pulled her towards him once again despite her efforts to get away. Blaise noticed Draco's arm twitch as though he was about to do something, but instead he looked on with balled fists.

"Hermione, here, is dating Hopkins," Potter stated, smirking at the struggling witch, "Pretty bad choice, even for you, Know-it-all. Though, I suppose you don't get many choices. I'm giving you one though, I'd be quite happy to provide my services to you."

Weasley snickered, while Blaise glanced at Malfoy and saw he was looking at where Potter's hands were running down Hermione's back, and where they were pressed together.

Blaise noticed Malfoy's jaw tense and his cheeks tinged pink, showing anger. Blaise stepped forward and grabbed Potter by the back of the robes, pulling him away from the protesting witch. He noticed that Malfoy seemed to relax at the distance put between them.

"Ugh, you're disgusting, Potter." Hermione said, sneering at him, not the slightest bit scared right now, "I'm moving onto the next floor." She moved past them toward the staircase.

"I could always hex you for that comment, Granger!" Potter cried angrily after her.

"I could always take 100 points from Slytherin for threatening to hex a prefect, Potter!" She called back from down the corridor she'd just turned down. Potter grumbled, while Weasley snickered.

"Just shut it and go get Madam Pomfrey, she's probably asleep by this." Blaise said, pushing Potter toward the doors of the hospital wing. Potter walked through them, followed by Weasley, who muttered, "You think she'll give me a Pepper-up Potion? I feel a hang-over coming on..."

Blaise turned to Draco who was watching the door swing shut with a rather blank expression.

"So," Blaise began, acting casual, "Rounds with Granger; that must be hell." Draco scoffed and nodded.

"It's been shit," Draco agreed. His face didn't seem to match the sentiment, however.

"Why'd you agree to it then?" Blaise asked.

Draco glanced at him, then away. "Brocklehurst asked me to take her spot so she could go to that party...I only agreed because it was convenient for me. If I'd known Granger was there I would have told her to shove it."

Blaise narrowed his eyes. That's not the story Mandy had told him. Would she lie about something that insignificant? Blaise didn't believe she would, after all, this seemed like too much of a coincidence to have just happened by accident. Had Draco intentionally taken Mandy's spot, just so he could be near Granger? He let his thoughts go, however, when Potter and Weasley exited the Hospital Wing looking much better for wear.

"You idiots better get back to the dungeons, now;" Draco said lightly, "Filch is around here somewhere."

At the mention of Filch, Blaise and the two boys left with a quick "Cya!" over their shoulders, and raced down the staircase. On the way down, Blaise looked back and saw Draco climbing the staircase to the fourth floor, to meet up with Hermione. He frowned, before turning and following his counterparts down the stairs.

* * *

><p>Hermione stifled a yawn as she walked along, listening to the sound of her footsteps echo of the stone walls. Tonight had been one of the most uneventful patrols of her life (if you didn't count the near maiming from Potter), and she was thoroughly bored.<p>

She turned the corner and continued walking. She was surprised that they hadn't hexed her tonight; perhaps ignoring them today had given them a bit more respect for her. She almost laughed out loud, that thought was ridiculous.

She continued walking thoughtlessly for a moment, in a daze from her tiredness, when she rounded another corner and ran into something hard. She yelped and fell on her backside, looking up she saw the sneering face of Malfoy looking down at her.

"Honestly, mudblood. Get up." He moved to walk around her. Hermione stood and glared daggers into his back.

"Stop calling me that!" She hissed, angrily.

Malfoy chuckled mirthlessly, causing her anger to boil even more so. "Finally reacting, hmm? I knew you couldn't keep up your little game of ignoring my insults for long."

Hermione cursed inwardly. "What are you doing here anyway? I've already patrolled that corridor!" Malfoy turned to glare at her.

"Don't yell at me, you filthy mudblood." He hissed, "Honestly, Merlin help Hopkins if the rumours are true." He turned and continued walking, though Hermione noticed it was down the corridor she hadn't patrolled yet.

"Well blood doesn't matter to some people," Hermione said, stubbornly. She hated admitting she agreed to go out with Hopkins, but if it got a reaction out of the git in front of her, it was worth it.

Malfoy simply snorted, and they were silent for a moment before he spoke. "So is the great Hopkins taking you to Hogsmeade?"

Hermione didn't answer, but looked at her feet, her cheeks red with anger and embarrassment. Malfoy looked over his shoulder and smirked, "How _romantic_." He continued walking.

"Shut up, you stupid git." Once again, Hermione regretted her words as they left her mouth.

Malfoy stopped abruptly and turned. Hermione felt the fear build up inside her as he began striding back to her. She backed away, but he kept coming forward, until eventually she could feel her back hit the cold stone wall and he was looking down at her with a look of pure rage.

"What did you call me, you filthy mudblood?"

Hermione swallowed nervously, "I was just joking. You know, playing around." She laughed nervously; Malfoy did not look amused in the slightest. His face however did seem to soften, slightly.

"You're scared of me aren't you, mudblood?" He asked, some anger still left in his voice.

"No," Hermione replied, though it was too quickly. She didn't want him to think that, it would only encourage him.

He stepped back slightly, "Good. So if you don't want me to hex you, don't make me mad."

She scoffed, "You hex me even when I don't do anything to you!"

"Well, obviously, because it's fun. And because someone needs to put you in your place." He turned and walked the other way.

"Stupid git," Hermione mumbled under her breath. She froze when she saw Malfoy stop mid-step. She must have said that louder than she thought. She cursed inwardly.

"What was that, Mudblood?" He said, turning on the spot to look at her.

Hermione squirmed under his gaze, "N-Nothing."

He merely raised an eyebrow, which was shortly followed by his wand, "Rectusempra." He muttered calmly, and Hermione was instantly on the floor.

She noticed however, that she wasn't in pain, which surprised her. She was just being tickled to almost unbearable levels, and she had actually collapsed to the ground laughing.

She soon realised, when breathing became difficult, why this spell would be dangerous. She began gasping for air in between her giggles, and was relieved when Malfoy removed the spell.

She looked up at him, a stray piece of hair falling over her eyes. He was staring at her with a blank expression, though Hermione noticed he looked like he was deep in thought.

She stood and brushed the dust off her robes, feeling awkward under his gaze. They stood with their eyes locked for a moment, before Malfoy muttered something to her that was almost inaudible.

"I hate you."

He turned and walked away leaving Hermione to stare after him with a mixture of confusion, anger, and surprisingly, the smallest bit of hurt.

Hermione decided to leave Malfoy to finish this floor, so she began to walk to the staircase and begin patrolling the fifth floor.

Hermione's thoughts were still on Malfoy, even as she began patrolling the corridors. He had acted odd toward her. First, he'd actually talked to her; second, he barely hexed her at all, and thirdly, the way he looked at her was not normal. She amused herself in thinking that perhaps her presence was causing him to have some sort of mental breakdown. She shook her head at the thought; he wouldn't even let her affect him that much.

She continued on patrolling that night, making sure to avoid Malfoy at all costs. Eventually, at 12 o'clock she was done and was only too thankful to get to her bed and rest. Her sleep was restless however, because she couldn't help thinking about Draco's words _'I hate you.'_ and how much he seemed to mean it. More importantly, she couldn't understand why it had hurt her.

* * *

><p>Blaise awoke the next day to the sound of his friend's rushing around. They were in their Quidditch uniforms, and yelling random things like "Have you seen my other sock?" and "That's my glove, not yours!"<p>

Blaise attempted to drown out the noise with his pillow, but gave up after a couple of minutes. He sat up and saw Potter and Weasley racing around, while Malfoy sat quietly on his bed, staring into space.

Blaise frowned. He'd noticed his friend had been rather quiet lately, and he wondered if it had to do with Hermione. Right now, he just looked depressed.

Draco looked up at Blaise, having noticed someone watching him. The latter grinned at his friend, "Hope you find some good players today, mate."

Draco gave a small smile back, "We could always do with you as a player, Zabini."

Blaise smirked, "No chance, mate." He stood and made his way to the bathroom to shower. When he emerged, he found the dorm empty, beside Goyle who was still snoring away. He dressed and grabbed his bag, before heading in the direction of the library.

He knew many people spent the day watching the try-outs for all the House Quidditch teams, but Blaise was never a sports fanatic so instead had decided to spend the day, or at least part of it, in the library and get some homework done.

Blaise entered the quiet room to find it reasonably empty. There were a few Ravenclaws scattered around, who he avoided, and a couple of Hufflepuffs, but he assumed most people were enjoying their weekend by doing fun things, not school work.

He walked further into the library towards a secluded area of table that he enjoyed using. He'd studied at the same table for years, and had never let anyone else sit there. As he rounded the corner, however, he saw and unmistakeable mane of curly brown hair poking up from _his _seat.

He approached her. "Granger, since when do you sit here?"

She jumped slightly in her, no _his_, seat and turned to look at him, "What?"

He rolled his eyes, before speaking slowly and deliberately, "Since when do you sit here?" he pointed to the chair underneath her.

She scowled at him, "No need to be an ass; there's a Ravenclaw girl sitting at my regular table today, so I came over here instead. I quite like it here," she said looking around, "it's much more peaceful."

Blaise narrowed his eyes, "This is _my_ table, do not even think about making this a permanent arrangement." Blaise rarely got annoyed about things, but when people tried to hone in on his territory, it bugged him to no end.

Hermione raised her eyebrow, "Alright, calm down. There's a table right across from this, why can't you sit there for today?"

Blaise sighed in annoyance, but merely moved to the other table; it would be once and once only that he let Granger get away with that, however.

"Since you're here," Hermione began, while biting her quill, "We may as well work on the Potions assignment."

Blaise merely nodded, before standing to gather some books on the ingredients in Polyjuice potion. He was perusing the shelves when Hermione approached him from behind.

"I should probably say thank you for last night," Hermione said, looking awkward. Blaise looked over his shoulder at her, while still running his finger along the titles of the books.

"What for?" he asked, turning back to the shelf in front of him.

"For getting drunken Potter away from me," she said quietly, "I doubt anyone else would have done anything."

Blaise disagreed, though he didn't mention it. He saw how mad Malfoy was getting when Potter was all over Hermione. He'd stepped in to save Draco from embarrassment, and Potter from further injury, because he knew he was going to step in soon.

No, Draco would have stopped Potter eventually, though probably with his fist. That's why Blaise was now certain that his friend was keen on the girl he'd tortured practically every day for the last five years. He just wasn't sure where to go from there. He should probably tell Hopkins to back off, lest he want to risk bodily injury.

"Oh...well it was nothing." Blaise said, eventually, "Potter's alright, he just can't handle his alcohol."

Hermione scoffed but said nothing, and they continued their search for books.

Two hours later, they were sitting at their tables, quill-to-parchment, scribbling furiously. They had found information on three ingredients so far, and were currently summarising and beginning their paper.

They had argued on the structure of it for a long ten minutes, and eventually both had agreed that they would split the work load between them and allow the other to write in their own style, and then collaborate at the end. Hermione put her quill down to stretch, and was surprised when her stomach grumbled.

Looking up at the clock she realised it was lunch time; they'd been so absorbed in their work they hadn't noticed. She looked over to Zabini, who was still scribbling away.

"Hey," she said, he looked up at her from his work, "It's lunchtime, and I'm starved."

Blaise put his quill down and stretched, "Now that you mention it so am I." He stood from his seat.

"Should we come back after, or take our stuff?" She asked.

"We could always come back after," he replied, "If we keep going at this rate, we could have it finished by today."

He and Hermione ventured out of the library and down the staircases. Hermione noticed he was still keeping pace with her.

"Aren't you afraid to be seen with me?" She asked, thoroughly surprised.

Blaise merely shrugged, before smirking. "If anyone see's us, I'll just say I'm about to hex you."

To his surprise, Hermione laughed. He couldn't help but join in.

"Well you can't torture me as bad as Malfoy does. He's hated me since birth, literally, because I'm muggle born." Her smile faded and was replaced with a small frown. Blaise looked away feeling awkward. If only she knew...

"Malfoy's just been raised to be small-minded about certain things. Not his fault." Blaise said simply. He knew of the nature of Draco's upbringing, and he didn't envy him at all.

Hermione merely shook her head, either in pity or disbelief; he assumed it was the latter. They'd made it to the outside of the hall, where Blaise noticed his friends were standing around in their Quidditch uniforms, being hounded by females.

Draco looked over at Blaise, before his eyes moved to Hermione, then back to Blaise. He seemed to be evaluating the situation, though Blaise was sure he was misinterpreting it highly.

"Are you coming in?" Hermione asked, making her way inside.

"No," he replied, eyes still on Malfoy, whose own eyes had narrowed slightly, "I'll catch you back in the library after lunch."

Hermione nodded and gave him a bright smile, which unfortunately didn't go unnoticed by Draco, before strolling inside and sitting at the table with Neville, who'd only just gotten back from the Greenhouses after working on his extra-credit project all morning.

Blaise made his way over to the other Silver Marauders. "How were try-outs?" He asked conversationally.

"Fine," Draco answered, stiffly. Not looking at Blaise. Blaise sighed.

The others began to move into the hall, and Blaise held back, tapping Draco on the shoulder. The blond haired boy turned to him, scowling. "What?"

Blaise wasn't sure what made him say it, but he regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. "I'm keen on Ginny Weasley, not _her_."

They both knew which 'her' he was talking about, but apparently Draco was in denial, not only to his friends, but to himself.

"Does it look like a give a shit who likes Granger?"

Blaise wanted to say, "Yes, actually," but didn't.

"I told you before Zabini, whatever idea you've got, it's wrong. She's a mudblood." Draco hissed, before turning and entering the hall.

Blaise ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Perhaps getting Draco to admit it, at least to him was a lost cause. He sighed tiredly and strolled into the great hall, where Draco was silently watching Hermione, while those around him talked animatedly. Blaise just shook his head.

**Please review and let me know what you think!**

**-Leni**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

_...in which Blaise gets revenge._

Hermione was making her way downstairs to the Great Hall for breakfast one morning, with Neville by her side chatting animatedly about his Herbology project. She always enjoyed talking to Neville about school work, he was much more intelligent than people gave him credit for, and her influence on him over the years had made him quite studious. His only problem was that he lacked confidence.

Hermione grinned as he told her of his close run in the previous night with the Devil's Snare plant he was growing in the green house, and how he'd only remembered they hated light just as it nearly suffocated him. They made it outside the Great hall, when she heard someone call her name, "Oi, Hermione!"

She looked around and saw the grinning face of Wayne Hopkins walking towards her; she also noticed the many curious stares of people who were obviously wondering why he was doing so.

Neville had stopped talking and was glancing at the Seeker curiously. Hermione had told Neville of her 'date' with Hopkins, but she was still thoroughly embarrassed at the thought of talking with Hopkins in front of him.

"Morning, Wayne," she greeted him rather apprehensively. She turned to Neville who was looking at the Seeker like he had grown two heads, "You go ahead Nev, I'll be in soon."

If she was honest, she didn't want to discuss anything in front of Neville, especially when she knew what the topic would be. That would be just _too_ embarrassing.

Neville nodded, and with one last curious glance at Hopkins, he strolled into the hall. Hermione turned back to the grinning face in front of her.

"What can I do for you?" She asked, pretending as though she were just talking to any other student, and not one who had asked her out.

"Well, I know I asked you to Hogsmeade, and I know you said yes and everything..." Wayne began.

Hermione looked around awkwardly at the people staring at the odd pair. She looked away from their gazes and found herself distracted by the sight of the Silver Marauders walking, _no, _strutting, toward the Great hall from the direction of the dungeons.

"Uhuh," Hermione commented distractedly, as she vaguely heard Hopkins still talking. She wasn't really listening, however, and she had lost focus on the boy in front of her and was now watching the Silver Marauders walk down the corridor; or more specifically she was flicking her gaze between Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy. The latter, much to her dismay, had been a topic of her thoughts quite frequently lately, especially since the incident when they had patrolled together.

She was certain he had psychological issues, or at least that her presence was making him seem as though he did. The way he always taunted her couldn't possibly be normal behaviour, could it? She hadn't said anything to Neville about this; after all, she'd have to explain the basic theory of psychology just to get him to understand.

"Hermione? _Hermione!_" She turned abruptly back to Hopkins, who looked rather annoyed, and realised she hadn't heard anything he'd said.

"Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?" She asked quite distracted as the Silver Marauders approached closer.

Malfoy walked past without a single glance toward her, though she didn't expect him to acknowledge her. Weasley passed much the same; Zabini gave a small nod which she returned with a smile, and lastly, Potter, seeing who she was talking to stopped shortly, just to say, "Remember Granger, if you want a _real_ man to show you how it's done, I'm always willing." He winked at her, and sent a smug look toward Hopkins, who glared back at him.

Hermione scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief at how arrogant one person could be, before turning back to the boy in front of her who was still glaring daggers at the passing Seeker's back.

"What were you saying anyway?" She asked Hopkins, barely masking her impatience. She wanted to get the conversation over with so she could catch a quick breakfast, at this rate they'd be here all day.

"Huh?" he turned to look at her, trying to catch his thoughts, "Oh. Umm...I was just...confirming that we're still on for Hogsmeade...I know you said yes, but I just wanted to make sure it's still happening." He sent her an odd smile.

"Oh..." Hermione said awkwardly, she looked around as though an excuse would pop out from the shadows, but was instead faced with a group of girls glaring at her, almost as if saying 'who does she think she is?' Hermione narrowed her eyes at them. She'd show them. "Yes, it's still happening. I'll see you then, alright?"

Hermione barely waited for his reply of, "Great! See you then," before she raced off into the hall, regretting ever saying yes to him in the first place. Though, she thought, if it annoyed some smug girls _and_ some smug boys, she eyed Potter across the table, she was happy.

Her gaze moved over to the blond haired Marauder who she was sure she hated more than ever now, especially since he'd so plainly stated he felt the same way about her. Her anger ebbed slightly, and she thought of what Zabini had told her about Draco's upbringing.

Surely, despite his upbringing, he should have a mind of his own, and not be so influenced by pureblood beliefs that he felt justified in taunting a muggle-born constantly for the past five years, and probably, Hermione thought miserably, for the rest of their school life.

No, upbringing wasn't an excuse at all, despite what Blaise had said. Blaise had been brought up in a Pure-blood household and _he _managed to look at her and talk to her like she wasn't the scum of the earth.

Yes, Blaise treated her nicest of them all, and for that she was thankful, however she wasn't sure whether he would help her the next time they got her alone. She'd been lucky to get away from them the last couple of times without getting severely hexed.

She moved her thoughts away from the Slytherins, and onto Hopkins. He seemed like the only boy in school who had given her a chance, though she didn't really like him, or for that fact _know_ him. But she had seen him around occasionally, and he was a Hufflepuff, the house was renowned to be decent.

She knew however that no matter how decent he was, he didn't have what she was looking for. She sighed, and found her eyes unconsciously moving toward the Slytherin table again. A nudge to her side some moments later drew her attention back to the Gryffindor table and she turned and began chatting to Neville.

Little did Hermione know, Hopkins' intentions were not as honourable as she thought them to be that morning, at least Blaise Zabini knew that.

He had cornered the Hufflepuff in the corridors a few days ago and told him that there was no need to pretend to date Hermione anymore; that Blaise had already discovered what he needed to know. After begrudgingly agreeing to let Hopkins keep the money Blaise had offered him in the first place, the Seeker had said he would let Hermione down nicely.

Blaise supposed he could have let the Seeker continue to court Hermione, but having seen Draco's reaction to Potter leering at her, he was certain the Hufflepuff would be in for it.

Blaise looked over at the Gryffindor table where Hermione was chatting to Longbottom. She didn't look upset at all, despite the fact that Blaise knew as they passed by her before outside the Great hall, that Hopkins was in the process of breaking it off.

He was quite impressed; any other girl might be a simpering mess, feeling rejected, and bawling her eyes out. Not Hermione though, she seemed perfectly normal.

Blaise finished the rest of his breakfast quietly, not bothering to input in the conversation his friends were having. Since the day he'd told Draco of his intentions toward Ginny and not Hermione, the boy had been a real ass.

Whether he didn't believe Blaise, or he was just pissed off that Blaise knew of his real feelings, he wasn't sure. But whatever it was, was keeping Draco and Blaise very distanced, which was unusual for the best friends who had been close since they were small children.

* * *

><p>The first lesson of the day was Potions. The students entered the classroom and were immediately told to move into their pairs to work on the Polyjuice potion. Blaise strolled over to Hermione's desk and was immediately greeted by a bright smile.<p>

He wanted to tell her not to do that anymore, for the sake of his friendship with Draco, but it was too late, when he looked over at his friend he saw the blonde boy look away quickly, scowling. Blaise sighed.

"How was your weekend, Zabini?" She asked, lightly, as they stirred their potion. Blaise was seriously considering ignoring her, just to show Draco that he _really _wasn't interested in her, and maybe get his friend to stop being a prat, but when she turned and looked at him expectantly, he reluctantly answered.

"Well, you were working with me for most of Saturday," he said, looking at the potion. "Sunday was boring. So, not a very interesting weekend at all. What about yours?" he asked, politely.

"Oh it was alright. I spent most of my Sunday with Neville." She smiled at the mention of her friend and Blaise took the opportunity to change the subject.

"I see. No time spent with your boyfriend then?" He asked casually, though he was really quite interested as to what had happened between her and Hopkins. Hermione's head snapped around to glare at him.

"He's not my boyfriend!" She said a little too loudly, causing eyes from the surrounding table to look at her, oddly. Snape sneered from the front of the room, though he didn't reprimand her. She looked down blushing, feeling embarrassed about her outburst.

Blaise could feel Malfoy's eyes on them, and tried not to curse at the fact his overly jealous and paranoid friend would be even worse now he thought Blaise was questioning her 'relationship' with Hopkins.

"And besides," Hermione continued, more quietly, "He's only taking me to Hogsmeade. We're hardly dating or anything."

Blaise glanced at her, "Hogsmeade? So you're going to Hogsmeade with him?" Wasn't Hopkins supposed to have cancelled that this morning?

Hermione gave him an odd look, before nodding slowly, "Yes, just Hogsmeade. Though I'll probably ditch him half way, I think. Neville and I always go to Hogsmeade together." She turned back to the potion.

Blaise nodded, deep in thought. He would have to have a chat with Hopkins and see what the hell he was doing. Blaise had never gotten the impression that the Hufflepuff was genuinely interested in Hermione. While he had admitted she was good looking, Blaise knew he never would have done it if he wasn't getting something out of it; like a pouch full of Galleons.

The morning went much slower for Blaise then he would have liked since he was really wondering what the hell Hopkins was playing at, and he had been waiting for a moment to get him alone and ask him, without his friends seeing or hearing the conversation.

Blaise was thankful when that moment came at lunch. He was walking toward the Great Hall alone, as he had dawdled behind his friends. He noticed Hopkins coming down the stairs and quickly stood in front of his way. Hopkins stared at him for a moment, and sensing that the Slytherin would not be thwarted, he told his friends to go on ahead. They left with curious glances as Blaise began to speak.

"I thought I told you to end it with Granger?" Blaise asked, barely suppressing his frustration. He wasn't sure why he was angry at the thought that Hopkins was still going out with her, but he simply put it down to the fact that the Hufflepuff hadn't listened to what he had asked him to do.

"I changed my mind. What's it to you?" Hopkins answered back, defiantly. Blaise resisted the urge to smack him across the head.

"The point is I know you don't really like her. If you're just going to fuck with her, then I'd think again."

Hopkins had the audacity to laugh. "You're the one that had me ask her out in the first place, which is basically just as bad. You and your friends give her hell all the time; it's a bit stupid of you to get angry about anyone else doing it. And besides," he continued, grinning smugly, "I'm doing it to piss off Potter. Have you seen the way he leers at her? It just gives me more to taunt him about until the first game."

Blaise snorted. "Are you stupid? Potter isn't interested in her. He's just interested in anything with two legs and a set of boobs."

Hopkins seemed to think for a moment, before giving a one-arm shrug. "Still, closest thing I've got that I can give him shit for. Like I'd believe anything you'd say anyway, you guys are best buds."

Blaise went to speak, but merely thought it pointless. It was out of his hands now, and whatever happened was between him and Hermione wasn't his problem, though he had a feeling it wouldn't last long, especially neither of them were genuinely interested in the other.

He merely shrugged back and walked into the Great hall. He caught Draco's eye, and suddenly hoped that maybe this competition from Hopkins might get him to act on his hidden feelings for Hermione.

Blaise sat down and began serving himself lunch, barely listening to the chatter of Potter and Weasley around him. He wondered how long Draco had been living with the secret of his feelings toward Hermione. Had it been months or years? It was only this year that Blaise had noticed it, but perhaps it had been evident long before? Perhaps Draco had forgotten to hide it as well?

Blaise wasn't sure, but he knew the feelings were definitely there now. He almost felt sorry for his friend, of all the luck he falls for the person he's supposed to hate, and has been raised to hate. No wonder he was in denial. He continued his lunch, silently hoping that things would work out for his friend.

* * *

><p>The library had always been a place of seclusion for Hermione, so four days before the first Quidditch match of the season when everyone was suffering from 'Quidditch fever', she found herself there more often just to get away from the inane chatter.<p>

She was alone again today, as Neville was once again working in the Greenhouses. She was glad he had found something he loved so much that he wanted to work on it every chance he got, but in all honesty, she was quite lonely with him gone so much.

She sighed, pulling her book closer to her. She couldn't really blame Neville; she often became so lost in her work she forgot to go to lunch and, sometimes, dinner. Today was not one of those days however, since she was not in the right mood to spend hours reading, in fact, she'd read the same page twice and could not even recall what it had said.

She looked around the library. It was practically empty, besides her and about six other students. She got up from her table and began browsing through the shelves for a few minutes, before finding a think tome and returning to her desk. She wasn't alone though.

Upon returning she saw Blaise Zabini casually lounging at his regular table, of which she'd taken the one across from. He smirked at her when she returned to her seat.

"I see you've found yourself a new table to sit at?" He said, as she placed the book down and began flicking through it.

Hermione shrugged, "It's nicer here. And you can't complain because I'm not in your seat."

Blaise chuckled before putting his hands up defensively, "I wasn't going to say anything."

They were quiet for a moment. Hermione was reading, and Blaise was watching her. He wanted so badly to ask her a few questions that were eating at him. He sat up straight, and cleared his throat.

Hermione peered up at him from under her lashes, still giving most of her attention to her book. "Yes?" She asked.

"I was just curious," he began, fiddling with his quill absent-mindedly, "why Hopkins? I mean why say yes to going out with him?"

It didn't really bother Blaise, but he felt responsible for them going together. Draco would be even worse than he was if he thought Hermione was interested in someone else, especially if he found out Blaise had made it happen.

Hermione was quite surprised at his question, and wasn't quite sure how to answer it.

"Oh. Uhh," she hesitated, "I'm not really sure to be honest. I like to learn things, explore new paths. How can I know if it's not right if I don't give it a try?" She shrugged, knowing it was a lame answer.

Blaise looked at her incredulously, "So you're doing it for the learning experience? Bloody hell." He muttered under his breath.

Hermione glared at him. "Why is it so bad for a girl to date a guy she isn't necessarily interested in? I've seen you and your friends; you change girls more than you change your underwear. At least my intentions are more honourable then a quick shag!" She finished, by angrily snapping her book shut.

Blaise was shocked at her anger. "No need to overreact, I was just asking."

"Yes well don't ask," she said, stubbornly. "I know people are already talking, wondering why he's paying attention to me. Is it so ridiculous that someone might see me as more than a 'loser' or 'know-it-all'?"

A sudden pang of guilt went through Blaise. This whole thing was his fault, he'd started it, and when it ended people were going to get hurt. Most likely Hermione.

"What if I told you that I know someone who would be better for you?" He began, before hesitating, "I mean, they'd genuinely like you...they just need to get over their pride a bit...well a lot."

He stopped, wondering if it was Draco's pride stopping him from acting on his obvious feelings. Of course it was, what else would it be?

Hermione scoffed at him, "Yeah right, Zabini." She opened her book and went back to reading.

"No, I'm serious, Granger. Hopkins' not really interested. But I know someone who is, you just got to have an open mind." He knew she would need a _very_ open mind. Then again, they both would, and Draco would be pissed off if Blaise spilt his secret. Maybe he should stop trying to interfere?

"How would you know whether Hopkins is interested, or not?" She asked, challenging him.

He hesitated. He couldn't possibly tell her the real reason. "I've just seen him with girls since." He hoped that would be enough for her to end it with Hopkins, but he knew straight away it wouldn't.

"So?" Hermione asked, hotly, "I'm best friends with a boy, I'm constantly around him. You can't just jump to such stupid conclusions." She shut her book again, angrily. Blaise was almost amused, at this rate she would get no reading done.

"I don't mean in the platonic way, Granger," he said, hardly believing he had to explain that to a 17 year old.

He saw her hesitate for a moment, before standing and packing her things. "I'm leaving," she said, haughtily, "Don't come in here acting like you're concerned for my feelings, Zabini. I know you and your friends. You've made my life hell for years! Just because you've been laying off lately, doesn't mean I forget who you really are."

With that, she turned and stormed off. Blaise sat staring at the wall. She did have a point; he and his friends were always cruel to her. But that changed when he found out why, and he knew Malfoy had let up a bit now that Blaise was onto him about it.

He wasn't sure about what he'd told her either. Malfoy was a git at the best of times; would he and Hermione even be compatible? Or would it always be a one sided obsession on Draco's part? Blaise ran his hand through his hair in frustration; perhaps trying to interfere would be pointless.

He looked around at the emptying library and began to gather his things. He wouldn't try to meddle anymore, especially when both parties seemed quite unthankful.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you're alright, Hermione?" Neville asked as they sat in the Gryffindor common room, in a secluded corner playing wizard's chess. Hermione was losing, though it had more to do with lack of trying.<p>

"I'm fine, Nev. I'm just sick to death of the idiots in this school." Neville smiled at her annoyed tone.

"I can't help but notice you've been pretty close with some of the idiots in this school lately," he gave her a pointed look as he moved his queen.

Hermione looked down at the board, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Some of them aren't so bad..." She muttered quietly.

Neville nodded, "I know, Hermione. But I'm just worried you'll get hurt. I mean, don't you find it strange that all of a sudden people are taking interest or talking to you, when they never used to look twice?"

Hermione played with her knight for a moment, before moving it, only to realise it was a bad move, "I know. But maybe people are over the childish opinions and games?" She pointed out, hopefully.

They both watched as Hermione knight was smashed to pieces by Neville's queen. Neville looked up to Hermione's face, which was still staring at the rubble on the board.

"I don't think they'll ever be over it Hermione. But that's just my opinion of course, because I'm still given hell from everyone... Maybe you were never meant to be a loser, maybe it's just because you associated with me." He smiled, sadly.

Hermione's head shot up to look at him fiercely. "Neville Longbottom," she began, hotly, "If you ever say such a ridiculous, absurd, _ludicrous _thing again, I will have to hex you."

She grabbed his hand in both of hers, her face softening.

"Neville, you're my best friend. You always have been my best friend, and always will be. Nothing will change that. No matter what these foolish..._children _think of us, we'll always know better right? It's you and me. It always going to be you and me."

She gave him a watery smile, which he returned. "Promise me something, Hermione?"

"Anything." She said, without any hesitation.

"Promise me you won't change for these people, no matter how hard they try to make you. Promise me you'll stay the same feisty Hermione I've always known." He joked, with a small smile.

"I promise, Nev. You've got nothing to worry about. If anyone tries, I'll hex them til they're inside out." She laughed.

"Good." He said, grinning, before turning back to the chess board "Now, I think I was just in the process of kicking your butt."

Hermione huffed mockingly, "We'll see. I was letting you win!"

They spent the next hour chatting animatedly in the common room, over three games of chess.

When Hermione went to bed that night she couldn't help but think about Neville's warning. He was right; people had been nicer to her lately. A part of her hoped they'd just matured over the summer, but she knew that wasn't it. She decided from now on to keep her eyes open for any possible reason as to why she was suddenly more popular than she was last year.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hufflepuff! Hufflepuff! We'll huff and we'll puff and we'll blow your brooms away!"<em>

Blaise walked into the great hall on the Saturday of the first game, looking incredulously toward the Hufflepuff table. They looked like a bunch of bumble-bees, all dressed in the house colours chanting some ridiculous motto that Blaise wasn't sure of the meaning.

He sat down at the Slytherin table surrounded by Potter, Weasley and Malfoy, all of which were glaring daggers at the Hufflepuff table.

"What _is_ huffing and puffing?" Weasley asked, confused. He looked at the others, before Potter explained it was from a muggle fairy tale.

"More importantly though, what the hell is a Hufflepuff?" Potter asked. The four friends snickered.

The hall was filled with people dressed in colours to support the different houses. Not surprisingly, most were dressed in Hufflepuff colours, though there were a large number of girls supporting Slytherin. In the time it took to finish breakfast, approximately fifteen girls of various houses had passed by to wish the Slytherin team, or more specifically, the Silver Marauders, good luck.

Ginny Weasly was one of the girls who stopped to give well wishes as she made her way out to the Quidditch pitch.

"Good luck today guys," she said smiling brightly, "I know you kick Hufflepuffs ass."

Ron scoffed. "Of course we will, Gin." He stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Anyway, if, sorry, _when _you win, I expect an invite to the party in the dungeons, got it?" She smirked at Draco, who smirked right back.

"Deal," he said, before glancing to Blaise, "Why don't you sit with Zabini during the game. Make sure he cheers us on." Draco looked amused at Blaise's surprised expression, which he quickly got under control as Ginny turned to him.

"Alright," Ginny said, smiling, "Come find me out there when you're ready, alright Blaise?"

He nodded, "Yeah, alright."

"Well good luck!" Ginny said, before trotting out of the Great hall, along with many other supporters.

"We don't need luck!" Potter called after her; "We've got skill!" He scowled as he heard someone at the Hufflepuff table yell, "Bullshit!" while the rest of them laughed.

"Let's end 'em," Weasley said darkly, turning to his fellow teammates.

The Silver Marauders made their way out of the hall towards the Quidditch pitch. Blaise split up with his friends as they went into the change rooms for their pep-talk, which Blaise had heard was filled with a lot of curse words and threats on Draco's part.

He walked towards the stadium and began to climb the stairs to an empty seat, not really caring where he sat, when he heard someone call his name.

"Blaise!" He looked up to see Ginny frantically waving at him from a few rows away, beckoning him to come and sit with her. He didn't hesitate in taking up the offer.

As he sat down next to the red-haired witch, he noticed her friends sending him covert glances while whispering to each other. She sent them all glares, which managed to shut them up, before turning back to the Slytherin.

"So," she began awkwardly, "The weathers great today isn't it. Perfect for flying." Blaise resisted the urge to smirk at her conversation topic.

The weather, however, _was_ extremely good. The sky was gun metal blue and cloudy, and while it was quite cold there was no wind, or bright sunshine to interfere with the game. He only hoped it wouldn't storm.

"Yeah, great weather." He agreed. He thought it was ludicrous how, when put on the spot, he and Ginny had nothing at all to talk about. They usually were able to chat easily, though most of the conversation revolved around schoolwork and friends.

"I wouldn't say the weather is that great," said a dreamy voice from the row behind them, "the Nargles love this weather the most. They might steal the Snitch before anyone catches it."

Blaise looked over his shoulder, along with an extremely amused Ginny. A blonde haired witch with a dreamy look about her was staring at the sky, obviously trying to detect some 'Nargles'. She looked back to them with her blue eyes, and gave a small dreamy smile.

"I can't see any, so it should be alright. Though they are quite good at hiding..."

Blaise looked toward Ginny incredulously. The red-haired witch was attempting to hold in her laughter at the look on his face.

"Well I should hope so, Luna," she managed to get out, before turning to Blaise and motioning toward the quirky witch behind them, "Blaise, this is Luna Lovegood, a Ravenclaw in my year. Luna, this is Blaise Zabini, sixth year Slytherin."

"Uh, nice to meet you Luna," he said, not certain it was. He heard Ginny's friends beside her whispering about 'Loony Lovegood'. He turned back to the witch when she spoke.

"It's nice to meet you too, though I have to admit I'm not usually a fan of Slytherins. I have reason to believe they've been stealing my things and blaming it on the Nargles." She looked thoughtful for a moment before smiling at him, "You seem nice though."

"Um, thank you," He replied, hearing Ginny snickering beside him softly. He sent her a glare, which only made her laugh harder.

"How come I haven't seen you around before?" He asked Luna, "I've been to a few Ravenclaw parties and I'm sure I'd remember you if we met before." He certainly would, she was very unique looking, not to mention clearly insane.

"Oh," she began, giving him a small smile, "I don't usually get invited to those parties."

Blaise suddenly felt incredibly awkward, "Oh...right. Well they aren't that great anyway..."

He was thankful when the voice of Zacharias Smith announced the start of the game and he turned away from Luna, and a still snickering Ginny to watch.

"_Welcome to the first Quidditch game of the season! Hufflepuff versus Slytherin!" _Smith's magnified voice echoed around the stands. The crowd roared at the mention of their team.

Smith then introduced the individual team members, with the Silver Marauders getting a large cheer from most of the female population, including Ginny. Blaise noticed Luna was silent, and was glad that she seemed to not be brainwashed.

Then he remembered she was a Ravenclaw and would most likely try to jump _him_, as most of them seemed to prefer. He looked cautiously behind him, and was relieved to find her looking dreamily at the sky where both teams were flying around, getting ready to begin.

He looked up and noticed the Slytherin team hovering together in the sky. Draco was clearly giving them instructions, reiterating the main tactics they would use to win. He saw most of the team fly off into their positions, except for a seventh year Beater by the name of Urquhart, who hovered closely to Malfoy as the captain spoke to him.

He saw Malfoy motion toward the end of the field at the Hufflepuff team and Urquhart followed his gaze, before nodding. Malfoy patted him on the back and went to his position.

"_Alright Madam Hooch, when you're ready!" _Smith's voice sounded around the stadium.

Madam Hooch released the Snitch and it quickly flew off into the sky. Blaise saw both Harry and Hopkins following its trail before it disappeared. Hooch then released the Bludgers, which began racing around the field. She then blew the whistle as she threw the Quaffle into the air.

Malfoy caught the Quaffle and was straight off flying toward the goal posts. Blaise knew Draco's skill and was certain he's score the first goal in seconds.

"_Malfoy's off toward the goals-Oh close call there, nearly lost it to Cauldwell, shame he didn't!-Oh come on stop him, stop him! Don't let him get it in! Bloody hell!-Sorry, Professor!-Slytherin scores their first goal!"_

The crowd went wild as Malfoy flew back around, and the red-faced Hufflepuff Keeper threw the Quaffle back into play.

"_Cauldwell has it! Passes to Abbot! Oh she just dodges the bludger sent by Higgs! Oh I think Potters seen something!"_

The crowd watched as Potter swooped down, with Hopkins close on his tail. But it looked like an ambush, because as soon as they did Urquhart sent a Bludger straight at Hopkins which just scraped passed him.

"_Oh, foul play from Potter! Close call by Hopkins! Snitch still hasn't been spotted! Cauldwell's got the Quaffle, passes to Summers- Oh, bloody hell! Loses it to Andersen who passes it to Malfoy! Malfoy's heading down fast, come on Stebbins! Block those goals! Bloody hell! Slytherin scores again!"_

Blaise smirked at Smiths biased and highly 'passionate' commentating which was currently getting him scolded by Professor McGonagall. Twenty minutes later the scores were70-20, Slytherins way.

Blaise watched as Malfoy scored goal after goal for the team. Urquhart was circling the field, following closely behind Hopkins, swinging his bat threateningly.

_"Summers has the Quaffle, passes to Abbot- Oh! Bludgers just misses Malfoy's head! Good one Jones! Bludger sent from Urquhart going straight for Hop-Oh!"_

Smith and the crowd reacted simultaneously as the Bludger sent from Urquhart hit Hopkins straight in the side of the head, and he fell from his broom to the ground with a loud thump. Many girls screamed, as Madam Hooch and a few other teachers ran to the side of the injured Seeker.

Blaise looked up and saw Malfoy send a quick nod toward Urquhart, who returned it.

_"Hopkins is unconscious from that blow to the head, it seems. Bloody hell. Looks as though Hufflepuff needs some serious luck to win this. They're pretty screwed without their Seeker- oh right, language, sorry Professor!"_

The Hufflepuff supporters in the crowd booed the Slytherin team for their heavy handed tactics, as Hopkins was levitated away on a stretcher. The Hufflepuff Chasers seemed to be trying twice as hard to score now, and their beaters were attempting to hit Potter with their own well-aimed Bludgers.

Ten minutes later, the score was 110-50, toward Slytherin. The Slytherin team was wiping the floor with Hufflepuff, and when Potter spotted the Snitch finally, the crowd knew the game was over and Slytherin had won.

"Well that was a short game," Ginny said, frowning, as the crowd cheered Potter, who was holding the Gold ball in his hand, "I was hoping it'd go for at least an hour."

"Yeah," Blaise agreed, "Guess we should head down."

Most of the crowd was now exiting the stands. The Slytherin team was surrounded by people congratulating them on their win. Blaise couldn't help but think of the interaction between Malfoy and Urquhart, and how he seemed to have been aiming for Hopkins the whole game.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. Would Malfoy really go that far to ruin Hopkins' weekend plans? Or was he just playing the game to win? He saw Urquhart walking towards the Slytherin change room and went to catch up with the burly seventh year, leaving Ginny behind to congratulate the rest of the team.

"Urquhart!" Called Blaise, as he jogged toward him.

The dark haired beater turned toward Blaise, leaning casually on his broom. "Zabini, mate. Enjoy the game?"

Blaise nodded. "It was great. Good shot there with Hopkins. Were you tailing him the whole game?" Blaise asked, as casually as possible.

Urquhart grinned. "Captains orders. Malfoy specifically asked for enough to keep him hospitalised for the next couple of days. I probably could have gotten him in half the time, but I thought I'd give the team a bit of time, don't want them to look _that_ pathetic."

Blaise was reeling. So Malfoy had tried to interfere with Granger's plans by physically injuring her date? That was a new low even for him.

He left Urquhart as he entered the change rooms, and walked back into the castle, barely believing what he'd just heard. He was unaware of a pair of narrowed gray eyes watching him at he stormed off, not even bothering to congratulate his friends on their win.

* * *

><p>Hermione and Neville had spent a quiet day in the Gryffindor common room. It had been completely empty so they had quite happily played a few games of Wizards chess, did a bit of homework, and now they were headed down to the great hall for lunch.<p>

They made it down to the entrance hall when they noticed people trailing in through the doors. Hermione and Neville shared a look of confusion. While they were not knowledgeable of the ways of Quidditch, they were used to most of the games going well through lunch, so to have most of the school body in the Great hall on the day of a Quidditch match was unusual.

They heard mutterings about Hopkins and as much as Hermione tried to listen in on what they were saying, the details were indecipherable.

"Well hey, Granger." Hermione turned to see a grinning Harry Potter looking down at her, still wearing his Quidditch uniform. She almost rolled her eyes, she was sure they only wore them inside because the girls swooned.

Behind him, Ronald Weasley was being hounded by several girls, and Draco Malfoy was standing talking to a couple of teammates, while girls were desperately trying to get his attention. Hermione narrowed her eyes at this, though she wasn't sure why.

She turned back to the boy in front of her. "What do you want, Potter?"

"Just came to tell you your little Hogsmeade date for this weekend is cancelled." He said, barely hiding his amusement.

Hermione raised a brow at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Hopkins. He got injured in the game. Nasty run-in with a bludger. Don't be too disappointed though, I'm free tomorrow and I'd be more than happy to take you." He leered at her, causing her to step away in disgust. Before she could retort however, Neville had stood in front of her.

"Sod off, Potter. She wouldn't touch you even if you _weren't_ a complete idiot." Neville all but growled at the bespectacled boy.

Hermione was shocked at Neville's hostility, and she was certain Potter was too because it took him a moment to contort his face into a scowl and step menacingly toward Neville.

"Listen here, Longbottom," Potter hissed in Neville's face, "I'd watch myself if I were you, or you might just find a few hexes thrown your way when you aren't looking."

"Just try. You can't do anything you aren't already doing," Neville retorted strongly, "You think you're cool because you push people around. Grow up."

Potter growled and was about to lunge toward Neville when a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind. Hermione was surprised to see Malfoy standing there, looking between the three with interest.

"What's going on here?" He asked. Hermione tried tugging on Neville's arm to move him before both Slytherins hexed him, but he didn't seem to want to budge.

"Just Longbottom here, trying to act tough," Potter hissed. Malfoy appraised Hermione and Neville with a thoughtful expression.

"Let's just go, Neville. They aren't worth it." Hermione tried to pull him away again, noticing that a small crowd was now looking on curiously.

"You're one to talk, Granger. You and he together aren't worth shit." Potter spat, Hermione was surprised at his tone. While he had always been an ass to her, he'd always done it in a joking manner. Never had she seen Potter become seriously angry toward her.

"Alright, come on. I'm too tired and hungry for this," Malfoy cut in, grabbing Potter and pushing him toward the Great hall. He turned back to Hermione and Neville, sneering.

"Don't start something you can't handle, or next time you'll end up in the hospital wing." With that he walked off in the direction Potter had gone just moments before. Hermione glared daggers into his back, before turning back to Neville.

"Why'd you do that?" She asked, hotly. The crowd had followed most of the Quidditch players into the Great Hall, so they were standing alone in the entrance hall now.

"I'm sick of the way they treat us, Hermione. They're no better than us. It's even worse when Potter leers at you. You're like my sister; it just makes me so angry."

Hermione didn't know whether to scold him or hug him for his stupidity. But she was happy that he cared so much about her that he'd put himself in the Silver Marauders bad books more so then ever. She inwardly groaned at the thought.

"You're going to have to watch them twice as much now. I doubt Potter will forget this soon." She frowned.

"Yea I know...It was worth it to see the look on his face though." He turned to her grinning, and she couldn't resist grinning back.

"Honestly Nev, you're becoming a handful." He gave her a look of mock indignation, before they walked into the hall for lunch, purposely ignoring the glares they were getting from the Slytherin table.

* * *

><p>Blaise was drunk. Well, not quite drunk, but he was almost there. The party around him in the Slytherin common room was in full swing. There were a few people from other houses (mostly girls), and everyone had some form of alcoholic beverage in hand.<p>

Blaise had been coaxed by his friends to do shots of fire whiskey and was sincerely regretting it because at the moment he couldn't see, think or walk straight. He stood from the couch he was seated on and stumbled slightly, being caught by a blonde Ravenclaw girl who was sitting on the edge. _Oh Merlin, not a Ravenclaw._

"Sorry," he muttered, trying to pry himself away. She held on tight.

"It's alright, Blaise," she said seductively, pulling him down next to her, "Why don't you stay here. I'll get you another drink."

Blaise who was quite inebriated already knew he didn't need another drink, but nodded anyway. When a safe distance was put between him and the girl; he stood off the couch and made his way into the crowd at the other end of the room. In other words, he hid.

He was surprised to find his three friends on this side of the room, sitting on the couch and talking to the people who were sitting and standing around them. Potter and Weasley both had girls on their lap, and if Blaise had control of his basic motor functions he may have rolled his eyes, but that was far too much effort, and he was sure he'd just look like he was having a seizure of some sort if he tried.

"Zabini!" Potter called out laughing, after seeing him struggle through the crowd, "Bloody hell mate, you're a bit sloshed."

Blaise made his way over to them and sat himself on the floor, his head resting on Weasley's chair.

"I'd say it's more than a bit," commented Weasley, amused. "Can't handle your alcohol, Zabini!"

Blaise tried to give him the one fingered salute, but failed when he held up two fingers instead. The boys laughed loudly.

"Well, well, look who's here, Zabini," said Malfoy, looking at his friend slyly, then back to the door.

Blaise followed his gaze, and saw the unmistakeable red hair of Ginny Weasley. "Ginny!" he called loudly, feeling confident. Who needs liquid luck when you've got liquid courage?

The Gryffindor turned at the sound of her name, and smiled brightly at the group of boys, making her way through the crowd.

"Why does he care that Ginny's here?" Weasley asked, quite clueless about Blaise's feelings for his sister.

"Because Zabini here has-,"

"Shut up!" Blaise interrupted quickly as Ginny came to stand in front of them. Malfoy smirked.

"Hey guys, how's your night going?" She asked brightly, and was promptly handed a bottle of butter beer from Draco which she accepted gratefully.

"It's going well," commented Draco, before looking at Blaise. "Except Zabini here is completely gone and I'm not sure he can't remember his own name. Why don't you show him to his room, Ginny?"

Zabini was sober enough to glare at Draco who merely grinned at him. When he spared a glance at Ginny he saw she was blushing brightly. He thanked the gods that Weasley was preoccupied by the witch on his knee.

"Its' fine," Blaise said awkwardly, while trying not to slur his words, "He's just being a git."

Ginny laughed nervously, before turning back to Draco. "Can we talk for a second?"

Blaise looked away awkwardly feeling his stomach turn a little, but not before he saw Draco shoot a hesitant glance in his direction.

"Could it wait a while?" He asked the witch. Blaise heard her sigh, impatiently.

"It'll only take a second," she assured him. Draco was silent for a moment before muttering "Ok," and standing to follow the witch to the less crowded side of the room. Blaise took the opportunity to steal Draco's previous seat.

He looked across the room and saw Ginny and Draco talking in the corner. Draco seemed quite unresponsive and was looking anywhere but at her, and Ginny seemed to be becoming rather irate.

Blaise was hoping, despite Draco and Ginny's past, that he might back off now that he knew Blaise was interested.

He turned his gaze to the chair next to him, both Potter and Weasley were making out with their witches. He rolled his eyes when Weasley stood and directed his witch toward their dorm room, and made a mental note not to go in there any time soon.

He was itching to look back and see what became of Draco and Ginny's argument, merely because this was the witch he wanted. Was she feisty when she was angry? Fiery like her red hair? He turned back to the pair and regretted it immediately.

Ginny had Draco pressed against the wall, kissing him as passionately as she could. He didn't seem to be too unresponsive anymore either, and Blaise felt the anger, betrayal and jealousy bubble inside him. He couldn't be in the same room as Draco any longer without the risk of hexing him.

He stood on his unsteady legs, realising just how drunk he still was. He didn't care though; he wanted to get out of this place.

He strode toward the portrait hole, when he heard Draco call his name. He chanced a glance behind him and found Draco pushing Ginny off him and looking at him guiltily.

Blaise had never seen Draco look guilty before, but found it didn't make his anger subside. He was sure Draco could see the anger written all over his face, because as he came to step toward his friend, he hesitated slightly.

"Listen mate, I did try to tell her-," Draco began before Blaise interrupted.

"Yeah, looks like you were telling her all sorts of things," Blaise said sarcastically.

"Come on, mate. She's just a girl-,"

"Just a girl?" Blaise hissed, angrily, "Right, we'll see how you like it then."

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, though Blaise sensed he knew _exactly_ what he was talking about because there was a hint of trepidation in Draco's voice that he'd not heard before.

Blaise stormed out the portrait hole without answering his friend, just in time to hear Ginny ask Draco what the bloody hell was going on. He didn't stay long enough to hear his reply.

Blaise had always been the mature one out of his friends. He had always tried to stay out of trouble, stay out of the spotlight, while they relished in it. He'd never taken an active role in taunting students like Draco and the others did, and he'd never even enjoyed the fact that others practically bowed at his feet. He was also never one for revenge. But there was always a first time.

* * *

><p>Hermione was patrolling the second floor that night. It wasn't her night for it, but she'd been asked to swap by a fifth year Hufflepuff girl who had been invited to the ridiculous Quidditch party in the Slytherin dungeons. Hermione could hear the music, even from the second floor and was hoping someone would shut them up soon. It's not as though she was a fun sponge or anything, but she was more responsible than most of the students here. She certainly didn't get drunk on her weekends.<p>

She met up with her patrol partner around the corridor, a 6th year Ravenclaw boy, and they both decided to move up to the third floor.

"Granger!" She turned at the sound of someone calling her. Looking over the banister she saw Blaise Zabini running up the stairs, stumbling every few steps or so. Her patrol partner was also quite interested in the boy, because he was looking over the banister next to Hermione, giving Zabini a curious look.

Blaise reached her halfway up the stairs between the second and third floor. He doubled over, regaining his breath, and the two prefects couldn't help but notice the strong smell of Fire whiskey emanating from the Italian.

"Are you drunk, Zabini?" Hermione asked. It was quite a stupid question, considering the evidence. "What are you doing up here? It's past curfew."

Zabini chuckled. "I just came to see you." He said, still quite breathless from his run up the stairs.

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked awkwardly between her patrol partner and Blaise, "W-what are you talking about?"

Hermione heard the tell-tale sounds of more footsteps on the staircase along with what sounded like arguing. She inwardly groaned. Not more drunk people. She crossed her arms in front of her and prepared to take house points.

Blaise looked over the banister and saw Draco and Ginny both coming up the stairs. Ginny was attempting to pull him back down, but he kept brushing her off, and she was becoming rather furious. Blaise narrowed his eyes. If he were sober, he may have thought rationally, but since he wasn't he only had one thing on his mind: pissing Draco off.

He moved closer to Hermione putting his arms on her shoulders. She was looking quite shocked, and her patrol partner was too. He heard footfalls closer now and before Hermione had a chance to swat him away, he leaned in and pressed his lips onto hers, hard, just as she opened her mouth to tell him to sod off.

He heard her yelp in surprise but the sound was muffled by his mouth. He heard Ginny gasp behind him, and could only assume Draco was seeing the same thing. Hermione had leaned away from him as much as she could but he kept coming toward her, until eventually she lost her balance and tumbled backwards. Blaise, who had been very much attached to her, felt right on top of her.

Hermione was shocked, to say the least. What had Blaise been thinking? She officially hated drunk people more than she did before, but now she had bigger issues of being squashed by a seventeen year old boy.

"Get off me you drunken idiot!" She screeched, "Garret, help!" The Ravenclaw prefect pulled her out from underneath Zabini, who was currently on the ground chuckling, looking every bit as drunk as he was.

Hermione sent him the nastiest glare she could muster, before she noticed Malfoy and Ginny Weasley standing not too far away, looking shocked and thoroughly pissed. Hermione, whose patience had been blown several minutes ago, not to mention she was extremely flustered, screeched at them, "Get back to your dorms! And take him with you!"

Malfoy, who until then had been eyeing Blaise with disdain, probably because he'd kissed a mudblood Hermione assumed, turned to her. He sent her a look of pure and utter hatred, which had Hermione worried for her future safety.

Her focus was broken by the sound of Zabini groaning, as he leaned against the banister. "I think I'm gonna be sick." He slurred.

Hermione's patrol partner, Garret, who had silently been watching the exchange til that point, suddenly spoke to Ginny and Malfoy, "Take him back to the dungeons, because if he vomits you can clean it up!"

Everyone's eyes went to Blaise who was cradling his stomach like he might heave any second. Everyone seemed to forget that a quick flick of the wand would clean the mess up, and so they were all hesitant to go near him.

"You can help the git," Malfoy said to Ginny, turning to head back down stairs, "I don't particularly care if he has to stay here and sleep in his own vomit all night."

He headed back down stairs, leaving Ginny to scowl after him. She hesitated, before sighing and moving toward Blaise, putting his arm over her shoulder and supporting him as they began what was sure to be a long trip down stairs.

Hermione, thoroughly flustered, turned to her partner, "If you tell anyone what happened just then, I will hex your bollocks off." He swallowed nervously, subconsciously covering himself, and nodded.

* * *

><p>Blaise had spent the last couple of hours in the bathroom of the boys' dorms, losing his breakfast, lunch, and dinner from that day in the toilet. The party outside was still in full swing, but he thought it best if he didn't rejoin it.<p>

He was feeling much more sober now, and was regretting his actions of the night. He'd kissed Hermione. He groaned inwardly, cursing himself for his idiocy. Not only would she probably never speak to him again, he was certain Draco was mighty pissed. Despite the fact that it was the reaction he wanted a couple of hours ago, now that he was sober and his brain had returned, he was sincerely regretting it.

He moved to the sink and brushed his teeth, trying to ignore the headache that was coming on. He deserved it; it would serve to remind him that alcohol didn't agree with him. He was also certain he'd ruined his chance with Ginny, though he wasn't certain he ever had a chance with her in the first place. She was always interested in Draco, if only he'd accepted that sooner.

He rinsed his mouth out and stepped back into his dorm, surprised to find Draco leaning against the door-frame cradling a bottle of butter beer. When he saw Blaise he sat the bottle on a near dresser.

"Sobered up?" He asked casually, though Blaise could sense a hint of tension in his voice.

Blaise ran his hand through his ebony locks, "Uh, yeah. Enough." Was Draco not mad at him? Perhaps he understood that he didn't mean it.

He realised he was wrong the moment Draco's face contorted into one of pure rage, and that he had quickly covered the distance between them, landing a heavy punch onto Blaise's nose. Blaise fell backwards clutching his face, looking up at the furious teen.

"What the fuck?" He exclaimed, feeling the warm sensation of blood running from his nose.

Draco looked down at him; eyeing him like he was something foreign on his shoe. "That is what you should have done to me when you saw me with Ginny," Draco hissed, grabbing Blaise by the collar of his shirt. "I would have accepted it, and we'd be fine right now. But I'll be damned if I forget this. It's not my fault you were too gutless to tell her how you felt, so I got in there first. But what you did...Fuck you." He finished lamely, letting Blaise drop to the ground but still glaring down at him.

"Oh, so you're admitting you like Granger now?" Blaise asked harshly, standing and attempting to wipe the blood from his face. "I could say the same thing to you! You're too gutless to tell her, so she's fair game? In your opinion that's how it works, right?"

Blaise was furious. Despite what he did, Draco was being a hypocrite, not to mention he was certain Draco had broken his nose. Now he didn't care what he said, he was being fuelled by rage.

Malfoy didn't seem to have an answer for Blaise, which caused the other teen to chuckle dryly.

"See? You've got no clue what you're doing. So I'll be damned if I apologise to you."

There was silence for a moment, in which the only sound was the ragged breathing of both boys. Finally, Draco strode over to pick up his butter beer, "I don't want an apology. You can have your filthy mudblood if you want...But don't get too upset when I fuck Ginny six ways 'til Sunday, which I very much intend to do."

He smirked, before walking out of the room, leaving Blaise staring after him incredulously. Blaise certainly didn't want Granger in _that_ way, and now he knew for sure Draco did, he practically admitted it moments before. In all his idiocy, Blaise had not only cost himself his 'friendship' with Granger, and his possibility of getting Ginny Weasley, but he'd most likely cost himself his best friend.

Blaise fell backwards onto his bed, tiredly. Thoughts running wild through his head, the only one he could really understand however was:

_I'm never drinking again._

**A/N: So I finally got this up since I was having trouble uploading.**

**Hope you liked this chapter, it was exceptionally hard to write so I had to kick myself so I did it. It's my longest on so far, too, 9.5k words.**

**Anyway, enjoy.**

**Leni**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**  
><em>

_...in which there's drama in Hogsmeade._

* * *

><p><em>Two eight year-old boys sat in the surrounding field of a large manor, broomsticks in hand. The boys were opposites in every way: one had hair of platinum white, stormy-gray eyes, and alabaster skin. He was arrogant, reckless, and loved trouble. <em>

_The other had hair of ebony, eyes so dark they looked black, and olive skin. He was reserved, logical, and rarely caused trouble. Despite their differences, they were best friends, and had always been._

"_I'll race you to the end of the field, Blaise!" Said the blonde boy, excitedly, jumping on his broomstick and hovering a few feet above the ground._

_The ebony-haired boy hesitated, "Uncle Lucius said to stay close to the manor, Draco. If he catches us he won't let us ride the brooms anymore."_

_The other boy scoffed. "Come on, don't be a wimp! Father won't catch us, I promise, and if he does I'll say it was my idea." He gave Blaise a reassuring smile._

_Blaise hesitated once more, before finally nodding and mounting his broom, hovering next to Draco. He looked to the end of the field; it was at least a few kilometres away._

"_On the count of three, ok?" Said Draco excitedly, the other boy nodded, gripping his broomstick tightly. "One! Two! Three!"_

_On three, they both took off as fast as they could, faster than they were allowed too. Blaise could hear Draco laughing as he flew a few metres in front of him and couldn't help but join in. The feeling of flying was exhilarating; he could feel the wind whipping his hair back and rushing past his ears._

_He caught up to Draco in seconds and the blonde turned to him and gave him a bright smile as they flew side by side._

_They reached the hedged border of the field in minutes and came to a halt, both wind-swept and grinning from ear to ear._

"_See," Draco began, dismounting his broom, "I told you it'd be great! I can't wait til I get to fly whenever I want! I'll become a famous Quidditch player!"_

_The other boy shrugged, as he hopped off his own broomstick and they began walking side-by-side along the end of edge of the field. The manor was now a small speck in the distance._

"_Quidditch is ok, I suppose." The ebony-haired boy said, as the strolled along. The other boy looked at him incredulously._

"_Ok? OK?" Draco cried, waving his arms about, "Quidditch is the best! When I go to Hogwarts I'm gonna join the House Team. I'll become the Captain!" He said smiling brightly._

_They walked along for a few moments, occasionally stopping to have a sword fight with their broomsticks, when they heard a strange noise from over the hedge. It sounded like a weird clicking sound._

_They both looked at each other before running to the one gate that was free of hedge and climbing on it so they could see better. Neither of the boys had been this far down the field before, so they didn't know what was beyond the hedge._

_Upon looking, they saw a dirt road that ran parallel to the hedge. It didn't look like it was used that often. Beyond it was another green field, and looking around they could see houses in the distance, nothing as extravagant as the manor, but small humble cottages._

_Both boys climbed over the gate, leaving their broomsticks to lean against it, when they heard the strange clicking sound again, this time accompanied with a small bell. _

_They looked down the road and saw a small blonde girl riding toward them on some sort of wheeled contraption. _

"_Whoa, what is that thing?" Draco asked as she rode further up the road._

"_I dunno," Said Blaise. He'd never seen such an odd looking object before._

_As the girl got closer she stopped, and looked at them curiously. "Who are you?" She asked them both._

_Draco stepped forward confidently, "I'm Draco Malfoy, and this is Blaise Zabini." He said pointing to the ebony haired boy behind him, who looked cautious. Blaise knew they were not supposed to be down here, let alone talking to muggles._

_The girl looked between them both, and furrowed her brow, "Those are weird names."_

"_No they aren't!" Said Draco defensively, crossing his arms, "What's your name, then?"_

_The girl straightened up on her seat and spoke in a polite tone, "My name's Emily. Emily Myers. I live in Mere, just over there." She pointed back to the distant grouping of cottages that could be seen in the distance, "Do you live there too? I haven't seen you at school before."_

_Draco shook his head, "I live in the manor just up there," he pointed back to the distant building on the far edge of the green field, "and I don't go to school, at least not yet. I'm tutored at home."_

_The girl tried to peer over the gate as Draco spoke, standing on her tip toes, still holding her bike handles. She turned to Draco, looking suspicious._

"_I don't see a manor up there," she said, accusingly, "It's just an empty field."_

"_Well of course you can't see it," said Draco, like it was obvious, "You're a muggle. Muggles can't see it."_

_The girl wasn't sure whether to be offended, but she looked at him with a mixture of haughtiness and confusion. "What's a muggle?"_

_Draco sighed impatiently, "Someone who can't do magic."_

_The girl raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You can't do magic! Only wizards and witches can...and Santa Clause." She added as an afterthought._

"_We're wizards," said Draco, pointing between him and Blaise, grinning arrogantly._

_The girl narrowed her eyes at him. "You're a liar. Mummy say's people's noses will grow when they lie!" She said, threateningly._

_Draco scoffed. "That's not true. You can lie whenever you like and nothing will happen, trust me." _

_He turned his attention back to the odd contraption she was sitting on. "What's that?"_

_She looked at him oddly. "It's a bicycle. I got it for my birthday yesterday. I turned seven." She stated, proudly._

_Draco wasn't really listening; he was eyeing the contraption thoroughly. It was awfully pink._

"_Can I have a go?" he asked suddenly._

_The girl looked uncertain, "I only let my best friend Linda have a go. She's eight and she knows how to ride with only one hand!"_

_Draco didn't look that impressed; he seemed much more interested in studying the bicycle._

"_If you let me have a go, I'll fly for you." He said, the girl raised her eyebrows, "You can't tell anyone though. Muggles aren't supposed to know about magic."Draco explained._

_Blaise stepped over to the pair, "Draco, I think we should go back now. It's nearly lunchtime and Uncle Lucius said to make sure we were inside by then."_

_Draco waved him off. "Don't worry Blaise," he said, before turning back to the girl, "So can I have a go?"_

_She hesitated, but when he grinned at her, she blushed and nodded, stepping off the bike and holding it out for him. Draco sat on the bike and began trying to balance himself and peddle at the same time. The first few times he fell over, much to the amusement of the girl and Blaise._

_Eventually he got the hang of it, and was soon riding around, pedalling as fast as he could, grinning madly._

"_You should have a go, Blaise! It's so much fun! I wonder if father will let me get one?"_

_Blaise hesitated, looking behind him nervously, "I think we should go, Draco."_

_Draco ignored him and continued to whip around on the bicycle, seemingly without a care in the world. That is until they heard a loud crack, which caused them all to jump, and Draco to stop pedalling. He suddenly looked fearful._

_Lucius Malfoy appeared at the gate, fuming, his cane swinging beside him. Both Blaise and Draco shared a look of fear as Lucius spoke._

"_Get off that contraption, Draco." His father ordered, coldly. Draco did as he was told and stepped off the bike, handing it back to the girl who was eyeing Lucius fearfully. Lucius turned his icy gaze onto the girl._

"_Go home, child." He said, his voice not holding one ounce of kindness. The girl was one her bike in a flash, pedalling madly back toward the distant town, looking back every so often to ensure there was sufficient distance between her and the strange people she'd just encountered. _

"_Come along, Draco. Blaise." He ordered. Blaise felt Draco next to him trembling in fear as they walked to pick up their broomsticks from the fence. Lucius grabbed both boys by the arm and disapparated them back the entrance hall of the manor._

_He called a house elf to take their brooms back to the shed, before turning to the Draco once more. Blaise stood nervously against the wall watching the interaction._

"_How many times have I told you, Draco," Lucius began coldly, looking down his nose at his son, "you are not to associate with Muggle filth. Blaise's mother may be far more lenient on the subject and allow him to do as he pleases, but you are a Malfoy. You are a part of an ancient, pure blood-line. You are above talking to such filth, and above all I forbid it. Do you understand?"_

_Draco nodded, not once meeting his father's eye. "Y-yes, sir."_

_Lucius appraised his son silently for a moment before ordering, "Hold out your hands, boy."_

_Draco's head shot up, fearfully. "Please, fath-,"_

"_Hold out your hands." Lucius ordered more sternly. Draco slowly held out two small, pale, shaking hands in front of him. Lucius raised his cane from his side and held it securely in his grasp. Blaise watched on fearfully for his friend. He knew what was going to happen; he'd seen it many times._

_Lucius brought the cane down hard onto Draco's knuckles, causing the boy to yelp in pain. Blaise flinched as he heard the distinctive sound of bone breaking. Draco cowered slightly, cupping his injured hands to his chest, sniffling every now and then._

"_Now, do you understand that you are never to speak to such filth again, boy?" Lucius asked, his cane at his side once more. Draco nodded._

"_Good. Come to me tonight and I shall heal your hands. I think spending the day like that will only reinforce the lesson you've learned." He turned to walk away, before pausing suddenly and turning back, "And do not try going to your mother to get her to fix you up, otherwise your punishment will be worse."_

_With one last intimidating look, Lucius strolled out of the room and into his study. Draco turned to Blaise, his eyes were wet with tears, his hands too swollen and sore to wipe them away._

"_Are you alright, Draco?" Blaise asked quietly, concern flooding his voice. _

_He watched in shock as the Draco in front of him grew and contorted into the 17 year old version of himself. The teen was sneering down at Blaise, looking bitter and furious. Blaise felt guilt well in his stomach for some reason, along with the slight feeling of pity._

"_I would be alright if you weren't such a horrible friend!"_

Blaise shot up in his bed, sweating and breathing raggedly. The first thing he registered was the immense pain he was feeling in his nose; the second was that his dorm was completely empty. For the first time in years his friends had left without him.

He sat up, wiping the sweat from his face before moving towards the bathroom to shower. The feeling of the warm water on his back seemed to make him feel better, however he couldn't help dwelling on his dream.

He hadn't thought about that day in a long time. It was one of the many similar incidents he'd witnessed over the years he and Draco were friends. It was odd to remember a time where Draco was just a normal boy, with no prejudice, no snobbery; but that is exactly what he was like before. Before his father had broken his hands multiple times to get the message through.

Blaise turned the shower off and dried himself. He felt horrible. The anger he'd felt last night was far outweighed by the guilt he now felt. Despite his differences from Draco, he considered him a brother; but he would never understand what it was like to be him. He'd witnessed Draco's punishments on the many times he'd visited the manor, and over the years they became fewer and fewer, because Draco had finally learned how to play the prejudiced pure-blood.

They'd never talked to that girl again, nor did Draco ever try to talk to any muggle again after that. That incident was the last time. It was beaten into him that he was better, that they were filth, and that the world was black and white with no shades of gray. No; Blaise would never understand.

He'd grown up with only his mother. Though a pureblood witch, she was not prejudice against those whose blood was not pure. In fact, Blaise was sure many of her lovers that she often brought back to the Zabini manor were muggle-borns; he also knew that on his mothers' many trips, in which she shipped him off to Malfoy manor for weeks at a time, that she was also taking muggles for lovers.

He remembered one particular incident he had returned home from Malfoy manor after spending the summer there while his mother was in France. She had greeted him quite lovingly, as she always did; showering him with gifts and sweets she'd gotten for him.

He noticed that day that she'd acted differently, and when she had removed her cloak he'd noticed her arms were bruised. He'd asked her what had happened when she was applying salve to the bruises. He was old enough then to know the way's of the world, and he hadn't hesitated to threaten to curse the man who did it. He had known it was a muggle man that his mother had been seeing for months, he knew this only because she would not send her letters to him by owl, but by regular post.

When she saw how angry he was; spitting derogatory names about muggles that he'd learnt during his stay at Malfoy manor, she had grabbed him by the shoulders and made him promise to never use such terms again. That muggles were no less than them, that a wizard could be just as brutal, if not more so. He had calmed down slightly, and had promised his mother that one thing.

Looking back now, Blaise realised just how different he and Draco's upbringings were. No wonder he was so bitter at Blaise for judging him, if only he'd realised it sooner.

As Blaise finished dressing, his attention was brought back to the horrible throbbing pain in his nose. He hadn't noticed it much last night, as the alcohol masked much of the pain, but now that he was sober it was unbearable.

He left the dungeons for the day, noticing how empty the corridors were, except for a small group of girls he saw on their way out hovering what looked to be a cloak on onto a high archway in the corridor, before running down the corridor laughing.

He suddenly remembered it was the day of the trip to Hogsmeade. He wasn't sure if he wanted to go now, especially since he would have to go alone. That decision was at the back of his mind, however, because the only thing he could think of was going to Madam Pomfrey and having her do something about his nose, which he noticed earlier was swollen and bruised.

He made it to the Hospital Wing and was immediately hounded by the nurse, who demanded to know who had inflicted such injuries. He didn't tell her that it was Draco, merely because he felt like he'd caused enough trouble already. He was thankful when the nurse healed his nose, put some salve on for the bruising and sent him on his way.

The Great Hall was mostly empty, except for a few first and second years, and a few older students who obviously didn't see the appeal of Hogsmeade on that day. He sat down for a late breakfast at the half empty Slytherin table, wondering whether or not he should try to make up with his friends.

* * *

><p>Hogsmeade trips were always a tradition for Hermione and Neville. They had gone together every time since their third year, and as bad as it may sound, she was quite glad to have gotten out of her 'date' with Wayne Hopkins so she could continue the tradition.<p>

"I think we should go to Honeydukes first," planned Neville, as they walked toward Hogsmeade.

Groups of students around them were laughing and chatting animatedly, excited to spend the day in the small wizarding town.

"Ok then," agreed Hermione, pulling her cloak further around her to block the cold wind, "but I want to go to Scrivenshafts, too. I want to buy a new quill. They have some nice ones there."

Neville nodded as they continued on their way. When they entered the village they passed a group of fifth year girls who were giggling and whispering, Hermione followed their gaze and inwardly groaned as she saw three members of the infamous Silver Marauders, plus Ginny Weasley, walking toward the three broomsticks. But where was Blaise?

She didn't much care about where he was, especially after last nights incident, but she couldn't help but find it curious that he wasn't with them. Were they outing him because he kissed a 'mudblood'? In which case, why had he kissed her in the first place? She knew he didn't like her like that. And why had Malfoy and Ginny followed? Hermione furrowed her brow as she watched the group enter the three Broomsticks. Ginny was attempting to hold Malfoy's hand, but he simply kept shooting her covert looks of annoyance and shoving them in his cloak pockets.

Hermione kept walking and heard the fifth year girls whispering louder.

"I can't believe he's dating Ginny Weasley!" A blond haired girl exclaimed, sulkily, "She's not even that pretty!"

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. Ginny Weasley was definitely one of the most beautiful girls in school, no doubt about it. What were these girls on about?

"I just don't understand why he's even dating her," another one said, bitterly "When we hooked up at the end of last year, he told me he didn't want a girlfriend."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but continued listening.

"I heard he beat up Blaise Zabini for her," another said, barely able to contain the excitement of spreading gossip, "apparently that's why he's not here. He and Draco were fighting over her. I still don't see why though. What's so great about her?"

Hermione continued to walk on with Neville, as the girls chatter got less discernible. She wondered if it was true about Blaise and Draco. Had they fought over Ginny? Had he kissed her because he knew Draco would be annoyed at him kissing a mudblood? That would explain why both Draco and Ginny followed. But that seemed like an odd explanation considering how it seemed like Malfoy didn't want to act like a couple with Ginny at all, at least from what she'd seen just before. Maybe they were having a fight?

Hermione scolded herself. Why did she care so much? It's none of her business; she was becoming just as snoopy as half the girls at school. When Neville snapped her out of her daydream by pulling her into Honeydukes, she simply decided to forget it and put her interest down to pure curiosity and enjoy her day as much as she could.

* * *

><p>Blaise sat at the Slytherin table, daydreaming, ignorant of the whispers of a few students that related to him and Draco's current rift.<p>

He was pulled out of his thoughts abruptly, when he felt someone flick him in the side of the head. Looking up annoyed, he saw the bright blue eyes of Luna Lovegood smiling down at him. Annoyed at what she apparently called a 'greeting', he frowned at her.

"What was that about?" he asked, barely containing his annoyance. He knew a flick to the side of the head wasn't the worst thing that had happened to him in the last day, but it seemed to open the flood gates of his moodiness, which until then he was successfully quashing.

"Oh," she began, in her dreamy voice, sitting next to him. He wanted to tell her to buzz off, but he had a feeling she wouldn't. "I was just helping rid you of the Wrackspurts that were floating in your head. Flicking the head usually helps, they don't like the noise so they fly back out your ears."

She picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and began to polish it on her shirt. Blaise stared at her, astounded. Could she possibly be serious? Was she taking the piss? He couldn't tell, though she seemed to be perfectly serious.

"What's a Wrickspart?" He asked, fumbling over the name.

She gave him a knowing smile. "_Wrackspurt,_" she corrected, amusement twinkling in her eyes. Blaise was surprised that she thought _he _was the amusing one. "They're invisible creatures that float in your ear and make your brain go fuzzy." Blaise raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Symptoms are daydreaming, which you had; dreamy expression, which you also had; and running into walls and other solid objects." Luna looked thoughtful for a moment. "I can only assume you did that too. You don't have to thank me though, they can be quite sneaky. I'm happy to help."

She bit into her apple, as Blaise stared at her, wide eyed. She obviously was serious. He decided not to dwell on the subject of Wrackspunts, or whatever they were called, any longer and moved to a more normal topic.

"So how come you aren't at Hogsmeade?" He asked the blonde, not sure why he was bothering to make conversation with the odd girl at all.

"Oh, well I usually go. But I seem to have misplaced my cloak, and it's far too cold to go without one. I suppose you aren't going because you're friends are mad at you?"

Blaise turned to look at her with a mix of annoyance and confusion, "How do you know about that?"

"Oh. Well everyone knows. I heard some girls in my dorm talking about it. People seem to be talking about it right now." She nodded toward the occupants of a table across the hall, and sure enough as soon as he looked, the three girls in question swiftly looked the other way, as though they had just been pointing and whispering.

Blaise felt his annoyance grow at the sight of the gossiping girls, and had the sudden urge to get out of the hall as fast as possible. And to maybe rid himself of the witch who was currently talking gibberish.

"You know," he said, standing, "I think I recall seeing a cloak in the corridor this morning. I'll show you where."

He walked out of the Great hall with Luna in tow, to the place he had seen the group of girls levitating a cloak onto one of the walkway arches. He got out his wand and levitated it down, grabbing it before it hit the ground.

"Here you go," he said, handing her the cloak, which she took with a smile, "now you can go to Hogsmeade."

While Blaise did do a nice thing for a fellow student, he was still a Slytherin and his main intentions were to get rid of the girl and spend the day away from the gossiping students.

"Thank you so much," said Luna gratefully, slipping the cloak on her shoulders, "Will you be coming then?"

Blaise was taken aback by her invitation. "Uh, no. I think I'll just spend the day in the dungeons."

Luna gave him a knowing smile, "You shouldn't spend the day hiding from people, it'll just give them more reason to talk. I know from experience the best thing to do is to face them, get it over with quickly."

Blaise wasn't sure whether to be impressed by the witch's observations, especially since she looked like her head was in the clouds half the time; or to be annoyed that she was accusing him of being gutless, despite the fact that he actually _didn't_ want to face the rest of the students, especially after the rumours that were going around.

"Come on," said Luna, encouragingly, "It's alright if you don't want to be seen with me. Not many people do, but I still think you should go and have fun."

The girl looked at him without an ounce of self pity, and his respect for her grew slightly. He was about to hide away after one rumour, and she had to put up with people laughing at her and hiding her possessions constantly. She was nice enough, and who really cared what people said if they were to visit Hogsmeade together? They were already talking. Yes, she was odd, and she was a Ravenclaw (the one type of female he avoided), but she seemed like she might take his mind off things.

In a strange moment of insanity, Blaise said, "Ok. I'll go get my cloak, and you can go get your bag and I'll meet you back here."

Luna smiled, her eyes twinkling, and nodded. Blaise couldn't help but feel like today would be one of the most eventful of his life.

* * *

><p>Hermione and Neville left Scrivenshafts with Hermione's new Quill, which sat in her bag filled with Honeydukes sweets. She and Neville were strolling along the busy street, sharing a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. They weren't Hermione favourite sweet, but she and Neville always bought a box to share, merely for the amusement of not knowing what you'd get.<p>

They were currently laughing about the fact that Neville had just consumed a vomit flavoured bean, and very nearly _did_ vomit. They decided to settle their stomachs by going into the Three Broomsticks for some lunch and a butter beer.

The Three Broomstick was crowded, which was no surprise to the pair. They managed to find a table at the back, which a group had just vacated, and quickly sat down, setting their previous purchases by their feet.

"I'll order first, shall I?" Neville suggested, as they both took of their outer cloaks and hung them on the back of their chairs. He didn't need to ask what to get since they always got a Pumpkin Pasty and a Butterbeer each.

Hermione nodded, "Thanks Nev." The boy stood and went to the packed bar, attempting to find a place in line.

Hermione took the opportunity to look around the cozy pub. The place was packed with students, and some residents of Hogsmeade, though she noticed most of them avoided the pub on weekends and instead went to the Hogshead as it was less noisy and not packed with students.

Her eyes travelled to a table over on the other side of the room. It was occupied by Pansy Parkinson and a couple of other Slytherin girls. Hermione had never liked Pansy, the girl had always been horrible to her, and the fact that she practically worshipped the Silver Marauders was another reason.

Hermione realised she hadn't actually seen Pansy near the Silver Marauders for quite a while. Perhaps she had gotten over her crush on Draco Malfoy?

Hermione looked back toward Pansy and found her sneering in the direction of a table near the back of the pub. Hermione followed her gaze and was not surprised to see the Silver Marauders, Ginny Weasley, and two other random girls seated at the table in question.

Hermione found herself smirking as she stared at the red head girl who was the target of Pansy's hate. She found it quite amusing that Draco had chosen a Gryffindor over a fellow Slytherin, though the competition in looks between Pansy and Ginny was non-existent. Ginny was beautiful, and Pansy was a hag. Not to mention, Ginny seemed much nicer. The fact that Pansy was getting her comeuppance had Hermione satisfied to no end.

She went to turn away and see how Neville was dealing with the line at the bar, when she noticed someone looking at her. She met their face and was surprised, and slightly ruffled, when she met a pair of gray eyes, narrowed and staring at her. Draco Malfoy was glaring at her.

She made certain not to look away or show signs of weakness, so for a few moments across the crowded bar, their eyes connected. Hermione almost laughed at the thought of the romance movies she used to watch growing up, where two people's eyes would meet across a crowded room, and the whole world would fade away.

This was certainly _not_ one of those moments. Instead of falling in 'love at first sight', she and the git across the room were facing off. She was hoping he'd choked on his lunch, and he was probably wondering if it was crowded enough to hex her without drawing attention.

Draco broke his gaze suddenly, however, when Ginny placed a hand on his shoulder to grab his attention. She hadn't seen the silent interaction from across the room, and smiled at him. He smirked back, simply to placate her, before glancing sideways at Hermione, who found the whole thing rather amusing.

He didn't however, and when Ginny turned away again he sent a rather nasty sneer in Hermione's direction. This only made her more amused, and she couldn't help the smug grin that came to her face. Draco Malfoy was scared of angering his girlfriend, who would've thought it?

She turned away when Neville came back with their pasties and Butterbeer, thinking it best not to let him see her staring at that _that git._

"Bloody long line," he said, placing a bottle and pasty in front of Hermione, "I was sure I'd be there all day."

Hermione laughed softly, "I'll get the next drinks then, it's only fair."

They settled into a comfortable conversation, enjoying their lunch, unaware that a pair of gray eyes were still watching Hermione closely.

* * *

><p>"Listen, Luna," Blaise said as he followed her down the path, "We're never going to get there if you check every tree for mistletoe. You're not going to find any."<p>

The teen watched as the ethereal girl skipped along from tree to tree checking the branches for Mistletoe. She'd claimed she was looking for Nargles, but Blaise couldn't help but worry that she had _other_ intentions for the plant; after all she was a Ravenclaw. Despite that, he was losing his patience.

"The Nargles would like us to think that, so they're probably hiding undisturbed, which means I'll have more of a chance of finding one. Daddy would be so proud if I did."

Ten minutes later, and about twenty trees later, Luna left empty handed, unable to find Mistletoe anywhere. She didn't seem too disappointed though, she seemed to think the Nargles knew she was looking for them.

"They probably did know," she said, as they entered Hogsmeade, finally, "I mean you weren't exactly quiet. They probably heard you a mile away."

Blaise turned to her indignantly, ready to defend himself and state that she was being just as noisy, if not _noisier_ than he. He stopped when he saw the small smile playing on her lips, and couldn't help chuckle.

"Slytherins are very easy to get a rise out of," she said, still smiling. He snorted.

"And Ravenclaws are very much obsessed with me," he said, grinning slyly.

"You flatter yourself far too much," she said with a smile in her voice. He turned to her, with mock outrage, and she burst into a bout of giggles.

Blaise noted that it sounded like bells. It was a pleasant noise, and it scared him to think that he wanted badly to hear it again. So he spent the next ten minutes making her laugh in whatever way possible, basking in the sound of it, until finally she suggested they go to the Three Broomsticks for lunch. It didn't even occur to him that people would see them together, as he followed her toward the pub.

* * *

><p>Hermione finished off her bottle of Butter beer and sat it on the table, just moments after Neville did the same. Despite the lack of alcoholic content in Butterbeer, Hermione always felt a buzz after drinking it.<p>

"I'll get the next one," she said, standing and heading toward the bar. It was quite warm in the packed pub, she noticed, so she pushed up the sleeves of her sweater as she waited in line, humming to herself.

She'd been waiting only a short minute when she felt someone standing extremely close behind her, she moved forward and turned to see who the creep was, but was silenced when a strong hand grabbed her around the wrist and a pair of cool, gray eyes stared down at her, angrily.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She asked, trying to wrench her arm from his vice grip. She wasn't strong enough to get it free. Surely he wouldn't try to hex her in a pub full of people though? Then again, he might do just that.

"I want to know what you thought was so funny?" He hissed, in response.

Hermione smirked, he surely was paranoid. "Oh, nothing." She said innocently.

His grip on her wrist tightened, "I'm not kidding, Granger. Tell me."

She fought the urge to whimper in pain, "I was just amused at how you seem like the perfect little boyfriend. Who would've guessed?"

He raised an eyebrow. "And who would my girlfriend happen to be?"

Hermione gave him a withering look, trying not to grimace from the pain in her arm as she did so. "Ginny Weasley, obviously."

"No," Draco corrected, "she just wishes she was. And what about you, mudblood? Where's your little boyfriend at? After last night's performance I would've thought you'd be inseparable." He sneered down at her.

Hermione scoffed. "That shouldn't have happened. I'm not sure why it did. I certainly didn't want to kiss him, if that's what you're implying."

Hermione noticed his grip on her wrist softened slightly.

"It's a shame Hopkins was injured, too." He said in mock concern, smirking. Hermione noted a strange knowing look in his eye as he said it, but brushed it off.

Hermione shrugged, feeling unnerved at his sudden change in mood. "I'm not too cut up about it."

Draco raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. Instead he pushed her forward in the line so that she didn't lose her spot. He didn't let his grip of her wrist fall, but it loosened. She became unnerved even more when his thumb began rubbing circles on the area, almost in a soothing manor.

Hermione thought about pulling her arm away, but when she looked up she noticed he was no longer paying attention to her but was looking at the door, a mixture of amusement and disdain on his face.

Hermione followed his gaze and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Blaise Zabini had just walked into the Three Broomsticks with Luna Lovegood. The pair made their way over to the large line, obviously oblivious to the number of eyes that were on them, and the fact that most of the pub had gone quiet. Blaise noticed Draco, and hesitantly walked over.

His gaze, however, dropped to where Draco and Hermione were joined at the arm. He looked at Draco, an eyebrow raised in question, and before Hermione could pull away, Draco had dropped her arm and shoved his hands into his pockets.

She awkwardly turned away, but not before she noticed a pink tinge on the blonde boy's cheeks. Was he embarrassed to have been caught like that? Hermione nearly snorted at her idiocy. Of course he was, it looked like he was holding her hand. He probably didn't want people to know he touched the mudblood. She moved forward in the line away from the pair to order her drinks, trying to ignore the subtle heat and pink tinge that was also adorning her own cheeks.

Blaise tried to hide the knowing smile that came across his face, but Draco seemed to see it because he gave Blaise a dirty look that said 'Drop it, or else'.

"So," Draco began, tentatively, "Looks like you move on quickly." He nodded toward Luna, who was staring into space while in line.

"What? No. Nothing's going on there," Blaise said, defensively, "and besides, nothing was going on with Granger either."

He looked over to make sure Hermione couldn't hear him, and was satisfied to see she was now further in the line, surrounded by talking people.

Draco nodded at Blaise's explanation, though Blaise knew he didn't believe it. "Yep, I know. She just told me. Didn't forget to mention she was pretty disgusted about it too." Draco lied.

Blaise was surprised that Hermione would say something that harsh, but merely shrugged. "I was drunk, and pissed off. There isn't much to it, really."

"And now you're here with Loony Lovegood. No offence, but are you really that desperate? First Granger, now her?"

Blaise shook his head, giving his friend a knowing smile, while also trying to quash his growing annoyance, "You don't fool me, mate."

Draco didn't answer, but merely changed the subject, "I think we're leaving now. Ditch the crazy girl and come with us."

"What? No, I'm not gonna ditch her." Blaise said. He wasn't surprised at how unconcerned his friend was when it came to other people's feelings.

"Suit yourself, mate." Draco said indifferently, shrugging, "But by the end of the day, everyone's going to be laughing at you."

With that, he walked off back to his table and he and the others left the Three Broomsticks together.

"You don't have to hang out with me, you know," Luna said from behind him, suddenly. "He's right. Everyone will be laughing at you."

Blaise turned to look at her, surprised that she'd heard the conversation. She didn't look upset at all. To her she was just stating the facts.

"No," said Blaise, not sure why he suddenly felt like he wanted to stay, "It doesn't matter. Draco's being a git anyway. He's not forgiven me for what happened, I can tell."

"I thought he was the one that beat you up?" Luna asked.

"Oh, um. Yeah. There's a bit more to it than that." He said awkwardly, watching as Hermione walked back to her table. He decided he should probably apologise for last night's incident.

"Listen," began Blaise, "Could you excuse me for a second? I've just gotta go talk to someone real quick."

Luna nodded, and turned back to stand in line. Blaise made his way over to Hermione's table, and stood rather awkwardly trying to figure out what he would say to her. He hoped she wasn't to angry, though judging from what he remembered last night she probably would be.

Hermione and Neville both looked up at him. Neville with a look of curiosity, and Hermione with a look of annoyance. She turned to Neville, not wanting him to hear any of this. It was a wonder that Ravenclaw prefect hadn't opened his mouth yet.

"Why don't we leave now, and drink these on the way back to the castle." Hermione suggested lightly, "I'll meet you outside in a second." Neville nodded and picked up his drink, before leaving the table and walking outside.

Blaise sat down in the seat across from Hermione. She turned to him, and he knew she would not be very forgiving.

"Listen," he began quietly, "I'm really sorry about what happened last night. I was drunk, and I wouldn't have done it otherwise. Not that there is anything wrong with you." He added quickly, ensuring she didn't take it the wrong way.

Hermione crossed her arms. "Well you did do it. And I now know you did it to try and make Ginny Weasley jealous. It didn't work did it?" She finished, harshly.

Blaise shook his head, trying not to get defensive. "No that's not why I did it. It was to piss Malfoy off. That's it."

Hermione looked at him incredulously. "So you found me, just to kiss me, so Malfoy would get annoyed that you touched a mudblood, all because he stole the girl you like?"

Blaise hesitated for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Yeah, something along those lines." He couldn't possibly tell her the real reason, could he?

Hermione stood abruptly, a look of anger on her face. "Honestly, you boys are all idiots. Don't use me for your own personal gain. I've got my own life going on. I'm not just there to amuse you stupid Silver Marauders whenever you feel like picking on someone or doing something equally as stupid!"

Blaise went to explain that it wasn't his intention to use her for his own amusement, when there was a loud bang followed by a yelp of pain. The students in the Three Broomsticks stood to look out the windows, while both Hermione and Blaise headed toward the door.

Outside, they saw a few students looking toward a group of people who were crowded around one distinct boy levitated upside down in the air in the air.

"Neville!" Hermione cried, racing over and pushing through the crowd, Blaise followed closely behind. He had a feeling his friends were close by, and was not surprised to see Weasley and Potter laughing with their wands pointed toward Longbottom, while Draco stood smirking as he watched the scene. Ginny Weasley looked unhappy and was tugging on his arm, hoping he'd do something to stop them, but he was flatly ignoring her.

"Put him down!" Hermione screeched at Potter and Weasley. Both just laughed at her.

"Blaise!" She turned to him, he was surprised to hear her use his given name, "They're your friends, for once don't be gutless, and stop them."

Blaise hesitated. He'd never interfered before, and he couldn't see himself doing it now. He knew he'd be ostracised even more. So he gave her a look as if to say 'what can I do?' and didn't try to stop them. He knew it was wrong, but they were supposed to be his friends. He couldn't turn on them could he?

Hermione gave him a look of absolute disgust, as she turned back to the boys, her wand in her hand. "Put him down now, or I'll hex you!"

"Yeah, we're so scared of you, Granger." Potter said sarcastically. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she raised her wand, before lowering it slightly. People around were looking at her intently, wondering if she would fight back. She didn't disappoint.

"Furnunculus!" She cried, her wand aimed at Potters crotch. There was a moment of silence at the spell hit him. He then fell to the ground, clutching his groin, bellowing all sorts of insanities. She then turned her wand on Weasley, who was wide eyed with alarm, at the prospect of having boils sprout on his private parts.

"Put him down." Hermione ordered, allowing her wand to point directly at his crotch. Weasley didn't hesitate for a second, he flicked his wand and Neville fell to the ground in a heap. Hermione raced over and helped him stand.

The crowd soon dissipated having sensed the 'fun' was over, and the only ones left standing there were Hermione, Neville, Ginny and the Silver Marauders. One of which was on the ground clutching himself.

"You going to do the counter-charm?" Weasley asked nervously, motioning toward Potter. "We're supposed to meet up with some girls tonight. How's he gonna to do anything like that?"

Hermione scoffed in disbelief. "Does it look like I'm someone who would care whether Potter is able to get shagged or not? There is no counter-charm."

Malfoy, who had been quiet the whole time stepped forward, leaving Ginny staring after him. She looked torn between being a Gryffindor and being his girlfriend. "I'd watch myself if I were you, Granger. You're becoming far too cocky for someone of your standing. Maybe someone needs to put you in your place?"

Despite the threatening words Malfoy was speaking to her, he had a small smile on his face, and his voice was velvety and seductive. She didn't want to think about him being seductive, at all. It was far too much like something Potter would do. She chose to ignore him, and to just leave before she pushed her luck any more than she already had.

Blaise turned to find Luna standing closely behind him, she watched as Hermione helped Neville walk back to Hogwarts. He didn't seem to injured, though he might be a bit sore from his fall.

"You really should have done something," she said, almost regretfully, "People don't deserve to be treated like that."

Blaise hesitated for a moment, "Well, I can't exactly stop them can I? They'll just do it once I'm not there."

"That's not the point," she said, and for the first time her expression lost all its dreamy qualities and became stern. "You still let it happen when you're around. That's just as bad as doing the actually hexing."

She turned and jogged after Hermione and Neville, falling into step beside the pair as they walked back to Hogwarts. Blaise felt a sudden rush of regret, but tried to ignore it.

He turned back to see Weasley pulling Potter to his feet, the bespectacled boy was still clutching himself and groaning in pain. Draco was smirking, looking far too amused about the previous proceedings.

"Well wasn't that a dramatic turn of events," he said amusedly, before turning to Blaise. "Looks like you're new girlfriend is pissed off at you. Don't worry, mate, she wasn't a prize catch anyway."

He went to pat Blaise on the back, but the dark haired boy shrugged him off. All guilt and pity he felt for Draco that morning was gone, now he was just angry at the teen.

"When are you ever going to grow up?" Blaise asked angrily. "You think it's funny, all this stuff you do. It's not. It's pathetic!"

Draco looked stunned for a moment, before smirking once more. "Looks like you liked Loony more than I thought," he said, before his expression darkened, and his voice grew to just above a whisper, "or maybe it's because you still want Ginny."

"Are you pissed off because I got her?" Draco goaded, "It's funny. I got her, and I don't even want her. But I'll keep her just to piss you off. You know why? Because I don't forget. You know exactly what I'm talking about, Zabini. Same reason I punched your lights out."

Draco put his arms out and shrugged, as though he and Blaise's fight was just something that was inevitable.

Blaise laughed dryly, "Are you fucking kidding me? I'm the least of your problems in that department, mate. Hermione thinks you're a prick. Not worth a second of her time. She wouldn't go near you, not when you act like a complete asshole all the time. Have your petty revenge if it makes you feel better, but at the end of the day, the only thing getting in your way, is you."

Blaise shoved past Draco, as he walked back in the direction of Hogwarts. He didn't bother to look back, but he knew Draco was staring after him, probably tempted to hex him. Blaise didn't care though, Draco was getting on his last nerve. He needed to stop blaming everyone else for his problems.

Blaise thought back to the dream he'd had that morning. Perhaps he was a horrible friend, but that went both ways with him and Draco. Blaise had grown over the years, but it seemed like Draco hadn't. He still liked to be petty and bully others, while Blaise had grown out of such stuff at the age of ten. He then remembered what Luna had said; he was just as bad for not stopping it. He suddenly felt worse about everything.

Maybe he was just as bad as Draco, but in a different way? Maybe Draco thought the same things about him? He wasn't sure, but he knew from that very moment that things were going to change. He just hoped his friend would change with them.

He continued walking at a rapid pace toward the castle, his anger fuelling him on. Halfway there he lost his resolve, and rested against the trunk of a tree to catch his breath. He let his head lull backwards, and closed his eyes for a few moments, willing his heart to stop beating so fast and his breath to become steadier.

He opened his eyes a few minutes later and looked towards sky. It was going to storm soon, he was sure of it. He should get back to the castle as quickly as possible. His attention was drawn, however, to the single bundle of leaves that sat on a branch directly above his head. Mistletoe.

He wasn't sure why he did it, but he reached up and plucked the plant before shoving it in his cloak pocket. Things were definitely changing, he could feel it. With that, he left the tree and made it back to the castle just as it started to rain.

**A/N:**

**Ok, I'm not sure I like this chapter. It's more to show that Hermione wont be pushed around any longer, and also just to introduce Luna as more of a character. I promise there will be more Dramione to come **

**I was actually asked by someone in a review if I was ever going to write from Draco's perspective, and to be honest, I'm not sure. I sort of like the fact that the story is told from the perspective of his best friend and his love interest. I feel like that allows him to retain some of his mystery, and while I can sort of explain part of why Draco is who he is, I dont think I, or anyone else, will ever understand him fully. I also think that is part of his charm. He's mysterious, and we want to understand him, but we never will. That's why we love him :P**

**I am considering doing maybe one chapter from his perspective though, but I might wait until the story progresses further. Right now he's being a real ass, and while I dont want that to change much, since he always seemed pretty cocky in the books and movies, I think he will come to a realisation soon. I dunno, I just picture Draco always being an arrogant thing, and as I told a reviewer before, he and Hermione are perfect for each other because of their differences, not despite them. At least that's my opinion on it.**

**Anyway, sorry for this extremely long note, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think. Cheers guys.**

**Leni**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_**

_...in which Draco see's a lot more of Hermione._

* * *

><p>Hermione Granger had never been one for retaliation, or revenge, or really any sort of violence, but as she sat at the Gryffindor table, staring narrow-eyed at the group of arrogant Slytherins, she couldn't help but feel elated that she'd hexed one of them just days before.<p>

Potter had been healed a few hours after his hexing, as he was at dinner that very night, though she hoped she'd done a bit more damage. Hermione was slightly disappointed that he didn't miss out on his 'date' because of his issue with his manhood. The only satisfaction she'd gotten was that it must have been an extremely awkward trip to the hospital wing, and even more awkward when he had to drop his pants in front of Madam Pomfrey, though knowing Potter he probably would have relished in the attention his 'wand' was receiving.

The thought had her nearly regurgitating her breakfast.

Oh, how she hated those boys. They were a constant nuisance in her life, and she was certain things were going to change now; they already had. People now looked at her with a lot more respect after the Hogsmeade incident. While they loved the Silver Marauders in all their glory, they were quite awed by the fact that she'd finally stuck up for herself; and Hermione wasn't going to pretend it didn't feel _extremely_ satisfying.

Neville hadn't been seriously hurt, just a couple of harmless hexes, but the point of it was the fact that these boys walked, no, _strutted_, around acting as if they owned the place. They thought they could push her and Neville around, they thought they could hex them in the corridors, and make their lives hell.

Well Hermione wouldn't stand for that; not anymore, she'd had enough. She was the brightest witch of her age, she'd been told it many times by all her Professors, and she'd be damned if she was going to let those idiots better her. Her only regret is that she didn't realise it sooner.

Hermione glanced back over at the Slytherin table, this time to Blaise Zabini.

He wasn't sitting anywhere near the other Silver Marauders again, and rumour had it that they hadn't spoken in days. Hermione wasn't sure of her opinion on that particular boy; sure, he was a Silver Marauder, but he didn't seem to be as bad as the others.

Still, he hadn't done anything when he so clearly should have, and that made Hermione lose respect for him. She now just wondered why he wasn't speaking to his friends. Had he seen sense?

She didn't get the chance to ponder the thought for long, as the bell rang indicating the first class of the day.

Hermione had Ancient Runes, and was glad it was with the Hufflepuffs, a neutral and friendly group, for the most part. She and Neville parted ways as he went to head to Divination.

She wasn't sure why he took such a pointless class, but he had informed her it was either that or Ancient Runes. Hermione couldn't see the competition; Ancient Runes was absolutely fascinating, much better then Divination with that insect-like fraud, anyway.

Hermione entered the Ancient Runes classroom and sat in a seat at the front. She always sat alone in this class, but didn't mind as she found it helped her concentrate much better. Today, however, was not going to be one of those days.

"Hey, Hermione." A familiar voice greeted her from behind. Hermione inwardly groaned, before turning to the grinning face of Wayne Hopkins. Did this guy ever quit?

"Hi, Wayne," she greeted as cheerfully as she could, though it came out rather stiff.

"Mind if I sit next to you today?" he asked. It wouldn't matter what Hermione had said, as he'd already sat his bag down on the floor and sat in the seat next to her.

"Not at all," Hermione muttered under her breath, sarcastically.

"So I heard what happened at Hogsmeade," he said, grinning, as he unpacked his parchment and quill, "I couldn't believe it. I nearly died laughing. Potter finally got what was coming to him. You've got a few fans these days, you know? Including myself." He finished with a wink.

Hermione gave him a hesitant smile, "Yes, well I only did it because they were bullying Neville again."

"Oh, right, yeah. But still, bloody brilliant. I wish I could've been there! Shame about that, though. Quidditch is a dangerous sport. I was thinking perhaps we could reschedule at some point?" he looked at her, hopeful.

"Oh, um," she hesitated, looking anywhere but his eyes, "I'm not really sure that's a good idea. I mean you seem really nice, but I just don't think I have the time. So much school work, you know?" She offered, lamely. It was the first excuse she could think of and she was sticking to it.

"Oh right," Hopkins said, sounding a little crestfallen, "Well, maybe when you're not as busy we could hang out. You're one of a kind. Not many girls would hex Potter; half of them would fall on their knees begging him for a date." He said, scowling.

"I thought everyone liked them?" Hermione asked, curiously.

Hopkins laughed dryly. "No way. Girls like them, and maybe the Slytherins. But most of the guys from other houses hate them. They walk around like they own the place." He said bitterly, repeating Hermione's own thoughts on the subject.

Hermione nodded. "I agree. It's a shame someone doesn't take them down a peg." She said, frowning.

Hopkins grinned, "You already did."

Hermione couldn't help but smile back. She did take them down a peg. If only other people would.

The lesson continued with relative chat from both of them, and much to Hermione's surprise, Hopkins wasn't as bad as he seemed. Sure, he was a bit egotistical, but he also seemed to be quite intelligent and friendly. Hermione was surprised to find that she didn't mind his company, once his expectations for more than friendship were quashed, of course.

* * *

><p>Blaise was not having the greatest morning. Ever since his 'date' with Luna, which wasn't even a date in his opinion, people had been taking the piss left, right, and center. Many had gotten over the event, especially since he hadn't spoken to Luna since that day; but a select few were still acting as though it were the scandal of the year.<p>

He was not getting it as bad as Luna though; from what he'd been told from Mandy Brocklehurst, the girls were being even crueler than they normally were. He wanted to say something to her, to help her a bit, but he was sure it would only make it worse for her.

He heard the sound of snickers behind him, as the rest of his Arithmancy class trailed in. He rolled his eyes; the boys of Ravenclaw had been especially ridiculous about the whole thing. Blaise could only put it down to the fact that they were bitter over him stealing all the girls of their house away. Either way, they were annoying the shit out of him.

"Where's your girlfriend today Blaise?" asked one Ravenclaw boy, snidely, as he passed. Blaise ignored him.

"Not talking to you?" another goaded, "Oh well. She probably prefers the company of niggles, or whatever she always goes on about."

The two boys snickered.

"Nargles," Blaise corrected, trying to hold the annoyance from his voice, "They're called Nargles. Get it right, at least."

The two boys snickered harder, shaking their heads in disbelief. Blaise ignored them. He was sure they would soon spread around that he and Luna must be off catching Nargles together. But that was only _one_ time. Yes, _once_, and he _barely_ had a part in it. He felt slightly better from his reasoning.

"Well, you can't say I didn't warn you," a voice said from next to him, "This is really what you get for hanging out with the crazy girl."

Blaise turned to Draco, looking at him incredulously. Did the last few days happen? Did he not remember? Was he insane? He scowled at the blond.

"What are you doing?" Blaise asked, rudely. Draco didn't flinch at his tone, and merely looked amused.

"I'm waiting for this ridiculous class to start, what does it look like?"

Blaise rolled his eyes at his friend's avoidance of the subject at hand. "I'm talking about why you're sitting here. I'm pissed at you, remember?"

"Oh, that. I do recall something along those lines." Draco said, before smirking, "I'm sure you're over it by now, right? I'm dumping Ginny tonight anyway. Figure we'll be fine after that. In fact, I'm sure she'll be feeling so hurt and rejected, that she might very well jump your bones."

Blaise stared at his friend incredulously; Draco merely began taking notes off the board.

"You're dumping her?" Blaise asked, astounded, "You've only been dating for four days!"

Draco made a face. "I wouldn't call it dating. More like a _lot _of snogging, and well, other things," he winked, "and besides, I've gotten bored of it."

Blaise shook his head in disbelief. "You really are a complete and utter twat, do you know that?"

Draco smirked, "That's why we're best mates. I make up for where you lack. Speaking of which, what do you say about giving those Ravenclaw wankers what's coming to 'em?" he motioned to the two Ravenclaws that had passed Blaise earlier.

Blaise and Draco, being friends for nearly their whole lives, had come to be something of brothers; they knew each other better than anyone else. Draco always knew what Blaise needed but was too responsible to act on, while Blaise always knew how Draco really felt about things, even when he tried to hide them with his arrogance and egotism. It was one of the reasons Blaise was the one and only person who knew about his thing for Granger, even before Draco was willing to accept it. Blaise knew he still _hadn't_ accepted it.

"Oi," Blaise began in a whisper, nudging his friends arm. This caused Draco to make a mistake on his parchment. He swore under his breath before turning on Blaise.

"What the bloody hell do you want?" he asked in an irritated whisper, trying not to attract the attention of the teacher. He attempted to fix the mess on his parchment.

"Shit. Sorry," Blaise said, sheepishly, "I was just wondering about the whole thing with Granger the other day."

Draco stopped what he was doing, made a face of frustration, before looking back down to his parchment. He seemed desperate to avoid eye contact. "What about it?"

Blaise could hear the hesitation and threat in his friends' voice. Discussing Granger with him was like walking through a pack of wild Hippogriffs; one wrong move and all hell would break loose.

"Well, maybe you should go easy on the whole bullying thing from now on." Blaise said, shrugging. "I mean, like I said, there's more chance of her liking you-,"

"Zabini," Draco interrupted hastily, "I don't know what you're on about, but if I were you I would shut it before I hex your bollocks off. Got it?"

Blaise scoffed, "Oh come on. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Stop denying it."

"Denying what, exactly?" Draco asked, turning fully to Blaise, his eyes twinkling with threat. Blaise rolled his eyes, and turned back to his work.

"You really are pathetic." He said, smirking. Draco scowled at him.

Despite Blaise's smirk, he was really wondering what exactly Draco was playing at. He'd practically admitted twice his feelings for the Gryffindor, so why was he so adamant to deny it now. Sure, he didn't straight out say he liked her, but he said enough to let Blaise know he did.

Old habits die hard, Blaise supposed.

Perhaps his friend needed to realise that his hand wouldn't get broken for liking her. Though, knowing the eldest Malfoy, it would probably be worse than that now. Blaise decided not to push it anymore.

* * *

><p>Potions was the next lesson that day, and both Blaise and Draco strode in snickering to themselves as they entered the classroom. They'd just successfully hexed the two Ravenclaw boys as revenge for their comments in the previous lesson.<p>

It was nothing serious, just a hilarious Bat Bogey Hex sent stealthily as they walked past, they'd barely contained their laughter as they turned the corner and saw one of the boys running past them being chased by their own bogeys.

While Blaise was not usually one for that sort of behaviour, even he had to admit it was worthwhile. The looks on the boys' faces were priceless.

They walked to their bench in the Potions classroom, which was occupied by Potter and Weasley, both of whom had just had a free period. The boys looked up to see both Draco and Blaise red faced from laughing so hard.

"What's got you idiots pissing your pants with laughter?" asked Ron, with an amused expression.

"Just a nicely aimed Bat Bogey hex to a couple of idiot Ravenclaw boys." Draco said, smirking. "I actually think they're on the Quidditch team, which makes it even better."

Both Potter and Weasley leaned forward in anticipation for the details. By the end of the story, all the boys were wiping tears of mirth from their eyes.

"It's good to see you two talking again, anyway," commented Potter. "You were acting like a couple of teenage girls."

Blaise and Draco scowled at him, and both Potter and Weasley sniggered.

Draco shrugged, before turning Blaise and grinning. "He can't stay pissed at me for long, can you, mate?"

Blaise rolled his eyes in good nature, though he wasn't actually sure if he really forgave Draco. He would have to talk to him about everything at some point. Especially about him growing up and laying off bullying people. If he didn't stop his crap, Blaise wasn't sure what he'd do. The last few days without his friends had been horrible, though he didn't like the way they acted at times, especially with Granger and Longbottom. Draco targeted them for no reason other than his own amusement, and obviously, to get close to Granger for a while. He really was twisted.

Blaise glanced sideways at his friends. Both Potter and Weasley were eyeing a couple of Gryffindor girls across the room. The girls were whispering and relishing in the attention the two boys were giving them. Blaise rolled his eyes.

Draco was also staring at the sight, amused, until his eyes snapped up and toward the door where Hermione and Longbottom had just entered the room. Both were laughing and chatting happily. Blaise watched as his friends' eyes followed the two to their table across the room. Draco almost had a regretful look on his face, mixed in with obvious jealousy.

Blaise looked away, feeling slightly uncomfortable watching his friends' blatant longing for the girl across the room. His gaze, instead, fell to Hermione.

He wondered if she ever noticed the constant stares from his friend. Did she ever play them off as mere hatred, or was she perceptive enough to see them for what they really were? He supposed she didn't know. No one seemed to know except for Blaise himself. He wasn't sure how she'd react if she knew anyway.

He looked back up and noticed Hermione awkwardly shuffling her papers on her desk; she kept glancing toward them occasionally, and looking away just as quickly. She looked flustered, and there was a small blush playing on her cheeks. Blaise frowned. What was wrong with her?

He looked next to him and found the answer. Draco was still staring at her. Though he wasn't really staring at her, but straight through her. He was lost in thought while watching her, and she'd obviously noticed and was currently squirming under his penetrating gaze.

Blaise elbowed his friend in the rib as subtly as he could. Draco snapped back to reality and eyed him curiously. Blaise motioned toward Hermione and they both turned to find her still blushing, and when she glanced up this time, her eyes widened at them both watching her and she turned to start a conversation with Neville.

"You were staring." Blaise informed him. He was sure Draco blushed slightly, before quickly turning away. He didn't speak again, and eventually they were separated into their groups to work on their Polyjuice potion.

Blaise made his way over to Hermione's table, and sat down. "Morning," he said, rather hesitantly. Hermione made a point of glaring at him, before turning the other way and crossing her arms.

Blaise sighed, tiredly. "You were quite happy to look at me before, what's changed in the last five minutes?" He goaded.

He knew it wasn't nice of him to stir her, but it was the one way to ensure some sort of reaction from her. It worked, too.

Hermione turned to him, wide-eyed and spluttering nonsensical syllables, "I-bu-wha-nev-I was not!" She finished finally, glaring at him once more.

Blaise almost smirked at how easy she was to provoke.

"You were." He said, pointedly looking at her, "Unless it wasn't me you were looking at? You might have been looking at Draco for all I know." He shrugged casually.

Hermione's eyes widened even more if possible.

"_Malfoy_?" She said a little too loudly. People from the surrounding tables stared at her. She blushed, awkwardly.

Blaise glanced at Malfoy to see him eyeing them suspiciously. He shook his head, letting his friend know he hadn't said anything incriminating about him to her. He seemed to relax, but glanced over every now and then. He turned back to Hermione.

"Yes, _Malfoy_. You really ought to keep your voice down, you know. You have a tendency to let the whole class in on private conversations." Blaise said, tiredly. He began tending to their potion; it was coming along nicely.

Hermione was seething by this point. "It's hard not to yell when you say such ridiculous things," she snapped angrily, forcibly taking the stirrer from him and tending to the potion herself.

He huffed in annoyance but allowed her to do it, deciding not to push her too far. He sat back on his stool. "It's not ridiculous. A lot of girl's like him. What makes you any different?"

He wasn't sure why he was trying to provoke her. He was actually curious as to whether she might feel something for his friend, despite everything; that, and it was just good fun.

"Hmm, let me see," Hermione began; her voice full of sarcasm, "Maybe because I'm not a simpering idiot like the rest of the girls in this school. He's hated and bullied me for the whole time I've known him, and you boys are all arrogant gits."

"Not all boys are arrogant gits, you know." Blaise said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know. I wasn't talking about _all_ boys. I was talking specifically about you Silver Marauders."

"Fair enough," Blaise muttered. Looks like Draco was out of luck in that department. "So I suppose you've forgiven me for the incident on the weekend then?"

Hermione huffed loudly. "I haven't forgiven you; I've just accepted that you're far too much of a git to hold it against you."

Blaise looked at her, offended. She turned to him smirking.

"It's not really me you should be apologising to anyway," she continued, haughtily, "Luna's getting picked on really bad because of being seen with you, and I haven't seen you talk to her once since then."

Blaise looked away, feeling guilty. "I did try, but every time I went to talk she'd just leave, and people would start their bloody jeering again. I'm not sure why it matter's anyway," he added quickly, "it's not like there's anything going on there. I was just being nice."

He shrugged, and looked up to find Hermione glaring at him. "Of course she walks away, its people like you who are the reason she gets picked on daily. People who stand by and do nothing. And secondly, it doesn't matter if you were being nice, you still should apologise for being a git!"

By this point she was towering over him as he sat in his seat. He was actually slightly nervous; he'd never really been yelled at by a girl before. Especially one that had hexed his friends' junk just days before. He swallowed nervously, and was glad when she turned back to the potion.

Blaise glanced over at Draco to find him looking away quickly. He seemed to be forcing himself not to laugh. Blaise met his friend's eye and scowled, this seemed to make it even worse for Draco who snorted out a laugh, causing Neville to look at him oddly from the seat beside him.

"Such an arrogant git," Hermione muttered angrily to herself. Blaise's attention was brought back to her.

"Um, excuse me," Blaise began, annoyed, "I'm still here and I can hear you."

She turned to him, glaring. He eyed the stirrer in her hand nervously. That could hurt if it had the right force behind it, and looking at her face, she would make sure it did.

"Alright, alright," he said holding up his hands defensively, "I'll talk to her when I see her next. Bloody hell, I think I preferred it when you were scared of me."

Hermione turned to him giving him a withering look. "I was never scared of you. Malfoy, maybe; but never you. You're like the fluffy bunny rabbit of the group, completely harmless." She smirked, before turning away.

Blaise looked at her with a mixture of shock, annoyance, disbelief on his face. He decided not to let his ego get in the way and concentrate on the more pressing issue at hand.

"You're scared of Malfoy?" He asked, trying to sound casual.

Hermione sighed. "I suppose I was at one point. He could be very...violent when he wanted to be. I suppose he still would be, but if he tries something now he'll get the same treatment as Potter did. You can tell him that, too." She added.

"What's changed then?" Blaise asked, curiously.

Hermione thought for a moment, before looking at him, a small smile playing n her face.

"Me." She said.

They decided at the end of the lesson that they would meet up in the library that night and finish off their potions essay. Both had been working on it separately, but they still needed to combine it into one. Hermione had also warned him that if he turned up with anyone, she would not hesitate to hex him. He decided not to push her, and promised he'd be alone.

* * *

><p>After dinner that night Blaise prepared himself to leave for the library.<p>

"Where are you off to?" Draco asked, eyeing him curiously.

"Library," he said, "got some homework to do, and you know how hard it is to concentrate with these gits around."

He nodded toward Potter and Weasley, who were concentrating on a game of exploding snap, yelling out curse words every now and then when the other got a pair.

Draco nodded in understanding, before following Blaise out the door.

"Where are you going?" Blaise asked him, hoping he wasn't going to follow him to the library.

"I'm meeting up with Ginny to end things," he said as they walked along, "though there really isn't anything to end. Just a bit of fun, really. 'Spose I probably should, though. Don't want her stalking me like Pansy does."

Blaise nodded. Pansy had been rather determined to get him for years, though she'd never succeeded except for one drunken night in fourth year. Ever since then she'd believed she held a chance, when really Draco just hadn't bothered to tell her she didn't. Blaise was at least glad he wasn't doing the same to Ginny; she was far nicer than Pansy.

"Then I've got prefect duties afterwards," Draco groaned, "I suppose I could only put it off for so long. I've been getting others to fill in for me lately, just because I was hoping to do it on another day. But the Head Girl gave me an ear full for swapping too much." He looked away miserably.

"Why would it matter what day you did it?" Blaise asked, as they began to ascend the staircase.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly, though he seemed to be getting defensive, "I don't know...I just wanted to do it on a different day, that's all."

Blaise eyed his friend suspiciously, but didn't question him further. The boys split up at the third floor, as Blaise left to go to the library, and Draco continued up to the Astronomy tower where he was meeting Ginny.

When Blaise entered the library he noticed it wasn't particularly full, though it never was. There were a few students around, studying and chatting in whispers, trying not to attract the attention of Madam Pince.

Blaise made his way over to his regular table to find Hermione sitting at the table opposite.

"It's about time," she said, without looking up from her parchment, "I've been waiting for ages."

Blaise sighed, "Yes, alright. Sorry. Let's just get this finished. If I have to look at it one more time I'm going to Incendio it."

Hermione merely raised an eyebrow before handing him her parchment, "My half's done. Read over it when you're finished, and I'll read over yours when you're done. Then we'll compile it. Until then I'm going to look for a book."

Blaise watched as Hermione disappeared into the jungle of shelves; frustrated that he still had a paragraph to go, he got to work.

Half an hour later he had finished, and was just waiting on Hermione. She had been gone the whole time; he could only assume she was fully immersed in perusing the shelves somewhere. He shook his head at her intense bookishness, and went to search for her, wanting to get the assignment finished as soon as possible.

He turned down a few aisles, and turned a few corners, but still couldn't find her. He sighed and went to turn back but was surprised when he came face to face with Ginny Weasley. He looked her over; her eyes were red rimmed, as though she'd just been crying, though now her expression was more determined.

"Um, hi," he said, awkwardly. She was staring at him, arms crossed.

"We need to talk." She said, not bothering with pleasantries.

"We do?" Blaise asked, innocently, "I'm sort of in the middle of-,"

She interrupted him by grabbing his arm and yanking him around the corner to a more secluded area. Blaise decided then and there that he was going to strangle Draco for this.

"Now, talk." She said, as she leaned back on the shelf and crossed her arms.

Blaise rubbed the back of his neck nervously. What was with women getting angry at him today? He did not like it one bit.

"Uhhh, well, what exactly am I supposed to be talking about?" He asked, though he knew exactly what she was talking about. Why was he being involved though?

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Draco dumping me. Who's the other girl?"

Blaise furrowed his brow. "What other girl?"

"The other girl that is the reason he broke up with me." She said, fiercely.

"You weren't really dating though were you?" He said. She glared at him.

"Alright, you were," he added quickly, "but what makes you think there's another girl?"

"Because there has to be." She said, "When I asked him if there was, he denied it, but there was something there. Like he was lying. You're his best friend, so spill it."

Blaise put his hands up defensively, "Look, I don't know anything. Really. Maybe you just weren't the girl for him?" He suggested, hopefully.

Ginny gave him a withering look, before furrowing her brow in thought.

"The thing is," she began, "The only other girl he really talks to th-," she stopped mid-word, and her eyes widened. "Oh Merlin. Granger? Tell me I'm imagining things!"

Blaise inwardly cursed. "I'm not really sure what you're getting at?" He lied.

Ginny looked shocked and horrified. "Hermione Granger. He's always going out of his way to tease her. I've even caught him staring a couple of times! I just assumed he hated her...but now that I really think about it..."

Blaise was panicking by this point. If Ginny found out about Draco's feelings she'd most likely tell the whole school out of anger toward him. He couldn't let that happen.

"Do you really think he'd hex someone he likes?" Blaise asked, hoping she wouldn't remember the conversation he'd had with her weeks ago, "I mean if he wanted Granger, he'd have her already. He wouldn't bother bullying her, he'd just sweet talk her a bit, get what he wants, and that's it." He shrugged, trying to seem casual.

Ginny eyed him for a moment, before shrugging too. "Maybe. I mean he did do that to me, I suppose." She muttered bitterly.

"Exactly," Blaise agreed. "Maybe you're just looking for a reason to explain what happened. I mean, you know Draco enough to know that him settling down probably isn't that likely. When has he ever had a girlfriend?"

Ginny nodded solemnly, looking defeated. Blaise moved over to put a comforting arm around her shoulder, feeling awkward when she started to sob into his shoulder. After a few minutes her sobs silenced and she looked up at him.

"You've always liked me haven't you?" She asked him quietly.

"Of course, you're a nice girl, Ginny," he said lightly.

Ginny laughed softly. "I don't mean like that, Blaise. I'd have to be deaf not to hear the rumours that were going around. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Blaise ran his free hand through his hair, nervously. He wasn't sure what to say. He'd never told her because she'd always fancied Draco. He didn't really want to talk about it anyway; he was just trying to comfort her.

He looked down at her just in time to see her face an inch from his and a second later her lips crashed onto his. It took him a moment to realise what was happening, and when he did, he wasn't sure what to think. He'd wanted this moment for years, dreamed about it even; but this just wasn't the same. It didn't feel right.

She wasn't his, she wouldn't ever be. She was hurt because his best friend didn't want her. His best friend whose lips would have been here not long ago. That thought sobered him up and he grabbed her by the shoulders and gently pushed her away.

She looked up at him dejectedly. "What's wrong? I thought you liked me?"

"I do. I mean...I did." He corrected, "You don't want this, Ginny. It's not right. You're just upset. Let's not make things more complicated than they are."

She looked like she was about to argue for a moment, but merely nodded. "You're right. I'll see you later I suppose. Bye, Blaise."

She gave him a weak smile before turning and leaving him in the deserted aisle. He let out a relieved breath and muttered, "Holy shit," before deciding he should probably get back to Hermione and finish their assignment.

Hermione, however, had been perusing the shelves distractedly when she heard the sound of Blaise and Ginny talking in the adjacent aisle. She knew she shouldn't listen, but when she heard her name mentioned she froze, holding several books to her chest, and strained her ears to listen.

As she heard Ginny leaving, and Blaise's footsteps on the stone getting further away, all she could do was stand there, wide-eyed in shock. Why had Ginny said that? It's the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. Draco liking her? Maybe when pigs flew. Then again, she thought, with magic pigs could fly...

She shook the thought from her head, and tried to forget it as she composed herself and strode through the shelves to her table.

Unfortunately for Hermione, the seed of uncertainty had already been planted, and no matter how much she would try to convince herself that the idea of Draco Malfoy was ridiculous, a part of her couldn't help but be suspicious that it might just be true. That's what scared her.

"So that's it then?" said Blaise, half an hour later, as he gave her back the finished potions essay, "We're done."

Hermione nodded, "Yeah. I'll hold onto it if you like and we can hand it in next lesson."

Blaise nodded, "Alright. I'm off then, you coming?"

"Huh?" Hermione said, distractedly, "Oh. Um, no. I think I'll stay for a little longer and read."

They wished each other a good night and Blaise made his way back to the dungeons. He was surprised to find his dorm empty, except for a snoring Goyle in his bed across the room. Blaise sat his bag down and changed into his pyjamas.

He couldn't help but think about what had happened between him and Ginny earlier. He had surprised himself with how he'd pushed her away; he never thought he'd do that if Ginny tried to kiss him. He always thought he'd jump at the opportunity, take her roughly right then and there; but he supposed things had changed.

She'd been with Draco, and no matter how much he thought about how beautiful she was, and how funny she was, it only ever came down to the fact that she would only ever want him when Draco didn't want her.

He hopped in bed, flipping onto his side. This found him staring at a bunch of leaves on his dressing table. It was the mistletoe he'd picked on the weekend. It brought his thoughts to a pair of dreamy blue eyes that twinkled constantly, as though they knew a secret about you that not even you knew.

He resolved that he would find Luna tomorrow and talk to her, he would force her to listen to his apology, and he would make her forgive him for being a git. Then they could talk to each other about Nargles and Wrackspurts, no matter how much people laughed at them. He would make sure he was there as a friend for her.

He fell asleep that night with a smile on his face.

* * *

><p>Up in the library Hermione had been desperately trying to distract herself for the better part of an hour. She'd been unsuccessful however, and had only managed to read three pages of her book before she'd begin staring at the wall, deep in thought.<p>

"Hermione, dear?" She was broken out of her daydream by the librarian, who was standing in front of her, "The library's closing now. You might want to get back before curfew, too."

"Oh, right." She said, surprised that the time had gone by so fast, "Thanks, Madam Pince. I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, Hermione packed up her things and slung her book bag over her shoulder as she walked out the doors of the library, hearing them lock behind her. She began the long trek back to Gryffindor tower.

She was just making her way up the shifting staircase when she heard voices from the stairs above her that she recognised immediately. Potter and Weasley. She inwardly groaned. This situation was far too familiar.

She went to turn back and escape into a corridor but cursed when she saw the staircase was shifting again. The voices from the landing above were getting closer, and she was becoming frantic. She did _not_ feel like getting hexed tonight, or running into the idiots at all.

"What if the prefects catch us?" Weasley's voice echoed around her, "It's alright for the girls, the Astronomy tower is right near Ravenclaw tower. The dungeons are ages away."

"Don't worry about that," Potter assured him, "Malfoy's on tonight, remember? We've still got Filch to worry about though."

Hermione cursed again. Malfoy was patrolling? Even worse. Three against one? She definitely stood no chance, now.

The staircases shifted again and she was able to jump off on the fourth floor landing, just in time to see Potter and Weasley come down those stairs. Unfortunately they saw her too.

"Look who it is!" Weasley called out, Hermione looked back and saw him grinning, his eyes twinkling mischievously. She saw Potter follow his gaze and scowl, before they both started racing down the steps, just as she slipped away.

She certainly was not in the mood for a confrontation, especially not with Potter, who looked as though he was out for revenge for his hexed bollocks. She sped down the hall, hearing racing, footsteps echoing behind her. She wasn't scared of the boys anymore, but even the best dueller would not enjoy being bailed up when they were tired and exhausted.

She turned down the first corner and ran into something hard, falling back on her bum. She groaned in pain as she opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was the distinguishable blonde hair of Draco Malfoy above her, as he sneered down at her.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, Granger? It's past curfew; you should be in bed, not racing the halls like a maniac."

"Sod off." She stood and went to make her way past him, but he stopped her by gripping her arm tightly.

"Listen here, mudblood," he hissed, so close to her face she could feel the warmth of his breath, "you really ought to learn not to push me. Now I'll ask you again, why are you out?"

"None of your business." She said, stubbornly. His grip on her arm tightened, and he pushed her against the wall. She gripped her wand next to her as his body pinned her against the stone.

"You may have suddenly gained that Gryffindor courage you always lacked, Granger, but I guarantee you don't want to push me."

Hermione brought her wand up to his throat, "I guarantee you don't want to push me either." She threatened.

He moved quicker than she thought possible, and grabbed the wand form her hand and held it to her own throat. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"You shouldn't underestimate me, Granger," he said, using the wand to run over her throat in gentle patterns. Hermione did not want to admit that it felt nice. It felt _extremely_ nice.

She opened her eyes to find Draco staring at her with fascination, and awe? It made her extremely uncomfortable to have him look at her that way, as she could only think back to Blaise and Ginny's conversation in the library.

The silence between them was broken by footsteps on the stone, and at the end of the corridor Potter and Weasley appeared, looking breathless. Draco moved away from Hermione and brushed his robes down.

"There she is," Weasley teased, a grin on his face, "Good work Malfoy, we've been searching for her. Potter, here, wants his revenge."

The two boys walked down the corridor to where Hermione stood against the wall, and Draco stood in front of her still holding her wand.

"Hope we're not interrupting anything," Potter said.

"What are you talking about? Don't be ridiculous," Malfoy hissed, quickly.

Potter gave him an odd look, "Weren't you about to hex her?"

The blond stared dumbly for a moment.

"Oh. Right, yeah. I was," he said. Hermione raised a curious eyebrow at him. He looked like he was blushing slightly. She was interrupted when Potter stepped into her line of sight and began leering at her. His eyes travelled up her body slowly, a small grin playing on his face.

"You know what I think Granger?" he asked stepping closer, "I think secretly you want me. Of all the places to hex me, you hexed me here," he pressed himself against her, "I think you really just want it all for yourself."

Hermione resisted the urge to throw up, and laughed dryly. "I'd rather have sex with a troll, thank you very much."

Weasley snorted in amusement, while Potter scowled. He raised his wand and just as he did so, Hermione raised her leg, kneeing him in the crotch just as her clothes disappeared leaving her in her underwear, though she didn't even notice.

Potter was on the floor groaning in pain, gripping himself. Both Malfoy and Weasley were staring at her, both with shock and desire. That last one confused her.

She looked down and noticed her lack of attire, before yelping and running to hide behind the nearest object, which happened to be Draco himself, who was stuck to the spot with shock at what had just happened.

"If you tell anyone about this," she hissed hysterically, her cheeks flushed red, "I will make sure none of you can reproduce _ever_. I guarantee not many people will see it as a loss."

Neither boy said anything and Hermione inwardly groaned. Ever since the day they'd made fun of her underwear, which was her lazy day underwear, as she would insist, she'd began to wear much less 'virgin' underwear.

The number she currently had on were all lace and frills. Perhaps a little _too_ sexual for her, considering she was in fact a virgin, but no one had to know that fact. At least they wouldn't make fun of her for white cotton underwear anymore, she thought wryly.

"You're so dead, Granger," Potter hissed from somewhere in front of Malfoy.

"Yes, I gathered that," she said sarcastically, "It would be great if I could get dressed first."

He laughed. "Not happening. What do you boys say about taking her for a little dip in the prefect's bathroom again?" Potter suggested.

"Yeah, alright." Weasley agreed, as though he were bored and needed some entertainment.

"Malfoy? What do you say?" Potter asked.

"I say no," he said. Hermione's eyes nearly bugged out of her head, and she heard Potter argue.

"What? What do you mean no? Did you see what she did to me? Since when do you ever say no to torturing the know-it-all?" Potter argued, absolutely scandalised that his friend wasn't interested in torturing Hermione.

"I say no," Malfoy started, "because I'm tired, Filch is patrolling upstairs as we speak, and I don't particularly care if your family jewels were damaged. If we get caught, it's me who loses my prefect badge for letting you idiots do that while I'm patrolling."

"Bloody hell," Potter argued, "since when do you care about a stupid prefect badge?"

Malfoy sighed tiredly, "Since my father will have my head if it gets taken away. You can hex her tomorrow if you see her; I don't care, but not now. Now get out of here before Filch comes, how do you think it'll look if he stumbles upon this?"

Weasley snickered. "The old geezer would probably enjoy looking at her."

Hermione made a face of disgust from behind Draco as the others snickered.

"Fine," Potter agreed after a moment, before his voice turned threatening, "You hear that Granger? You got off lucky tonight, but you just wait til tomorrow."

"Don't have too much fun with her, Malfoy," Weasley joked. Hermione heard Malfoy scoff.

"She's a mudblood," he said, amused, "I've got standards, unlike Potter."

"Shove it," Potter said, as their footsteps and voices got further away. Eventually Draco and Hermione were left alone in the thick silence.

Draco turned to her; looking her up and down, ignoring the filthy look she was giving him. She covered herself as much as possible and edged toward her clothes that were laying in a heap on the stone floor. She couldn't believe Potter knew such a perverted spell, though she supposed given his track record with females that it must come in handy.

She peeked over her shoulder self consciously, to find Malfoy leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at her butt. She scowled.

"Would you remove your eyes from my arse, you git? You could at least _go away_ while I'm getting dressed." She hissed. Malfoy's eyes shot up from her bottom to her eyes, though he made no move to leave.

Hermione awkwardly retrieved her skirt off the floor without bending over too much. She stepped into it, feeling much better that she was covered. After she finished dressing she turned and saw Malfoy quickly look away.

"Don't flatter yourself, mudblood. Pureblood's like myself, do not find filth like you attractive." He kicked off the wall and stood, "Now unless you're really in the mood for a good hex from me, and it's really tempting, I suggest you get going."

He began walking toward the stairs, and Hermione grudgingly followed. She thought for a moment about hexing him, and then remembered she didn't have her wand.

Almost as if he read her mind he stopped abruptly at the stairs, causing her to run into him. He sneered at her, but merely handed her her wand.

She snatched it rudely and began climbing the staircase, grumbling obscenities under her breath as she went.

"Oh, and Granger?" he called after her smugly. She groaned inwardly and turned to him, glaring.

"What?" she spat, angrily. He smirked.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew."

Hermione gaped at him for a moment, before scowling and gripping her wand at her side, seriously considering hexing him. He eyed the wand in her hand before turning to her.

"I wouldn't, unless you're really that desperate for a bath, mudblood."

After a moment, Hermione decided she was far too tired for an argument, and merely rolled her eyes and made her way upstairs to Gryffindor tower, thanking the gods that she managed to avoid Filch and the other prefects.

She hopped into bed that night thinking of the number of ways she'd like to hex the smug smirk of Malfoy's face. She couldn't help but blush as she remembered the look on his face when Potter had stripped her down to her knickers.

She'd never seen him look at her like _that_ before. It got her once again thinking about what Ginny had suspected. She wouldn't believe it though, it was just too ridiculous. She was just a mudblood to him, nothing more.

In the dungeons, Blaise awoke as the door to the dorm opened and Draco entered. He watched tiredly as his friend gathered clothes from his dresser and entered the bathroom to shower. He didn't emerge for a very long time.

**A/N: I think we all know what Draco was doing in the shower that made him take so long, and just who he was picturing in their frilly underwear whilst doing it xD**

**Anyway, I'm quite surprised I wrote this chapter so quickly, I was literally absolutely stuck on what to write for this one, and then it sort of just wrote itself. It's probably crap-tastic haha **

**I can't believe I've reached 100 reviews though! :o Thank you all so much for taking the time to tell me what you think! I really hope you're enjoying the story **

**Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. The more people that read it the more stressed I become because I'm worried I'll screw it up somehow and disappoint you all haha hopefully this isn't one of those chapters :S**

**Til next time, cheers guys.**

**Leni**


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 6_**

_...in which Hermione gets hexed._

* * *

><p>Hermione walked down the shifting staircase the next day, having recovered somewhat from her humiliating experience the night before in front of three quarters of the Silver Marauders.<p>

She had spent some time that night and this morning going over what had happened. Firstly, she had been surprised at Malfoy's actions, or more specifically, his lack of actions. Hermione could not recall a time when Malfoy had not jumped at the opportunity to hex, taunt, or cause her some form of bodily harm. Last night he hadn't, and not only that, he'd stopped his friends from doing the same. That was definitely unusual.

Then secondly, the way he had looked at her when Potter had sent that disgusting spell her way had been _absolutely_ unusual. It wasn't a sneer or a scowl, or any real hate-filled expression; it almost looked like a man who had just realised the earth revolved around the sun, not the other way round. That had definitely confused Hermione. He couldn't possibly find her attractive, could he? He'd gone out of his way for years to make sure she knew she was far from it.

But that was the only explanation Hermione could think of for _that _look. A look whose intensity gave her shivers just remembering it. Yes, despite the fact that she was a 'mudblood', she was still a woman, and even she had to admit she looked good in lingerie. In fact, out of fear of something similar happening again, she'd reverted back to her white cotton underwear.

Hermione found herself content that she'd figured out the cause for Draco's expression. She refused to think that there was anything more than that, despite the fact that every time she thought of it the only thing that came to mind was the nature of Blaise and Ginny's conversation in the library that day.

The thought of Draco Malfoy liking her of all people, when he hadn't even wanted Ginny, was ridiculous.

Hermione, who had never really cared much for her looks, knew that Ginny was effortlessly one of the prettiest girls in school, not to mention one of the most popular, so to think that Draco would reject Ginny for her was just ridiculous. _Absolutely_ ridiculous.

Sure, Hermione had her strengths, but none of them involved looks, personality or boys; they were all books, knowledge and brains. Draco would not value those attributes over some of the ones many boys valued in this school.

Hermione shook her head, scolding herself for her ridiculousness. She was a mudblood anyway; the notion of him fancying her was ridiculous. She was even more worried about why she was bothering to think about who Draco might or might not like. Since when did she care about such things?

She let out a breath, wishing Neville were here to distract her, but he had slept in this morning. He'd spent most of last night in the greenhouses again, and didn't get back til very late. Hermione shook her head. She couldn't see how he could spend so much time on Herbology; sure, it was a fascinating subject, but it wasn't like Transfiguration, or Ancient Runes. She did understand, though, how easily it was to get so lost in something you enjoy that you lose all sense of space and time. She was happy he found something he enjoyed, she only wished it was something they could do together. She'd barely seen him lately.

"Hey Frills."

Hermione was broken out of her thoughts as she turned her head to see which poor girl was on the receiving end of that horrid nickname. She was confused and surprised, however, when she saw a group of Ravenclaw boys smirking at her.

She gave them a stern glare which had them looking away, but as she continued on walking she couldn't help the sudden sense of foreboding that came over her. What had that been about?

"Morning Frills." This time Hermione stopped abruptly mid-step and glared at the group of unfamiliar Slytherin boys who were currently smirking and chuckling.

"My name is Hermione," she said haughtily, "not _Frills_."

A brown haired boy with hazel eyes and pale skin stepped forward. He looked her up and down seductively. Hermione shot him her dirtiest look, to which he simply grinned. Stupid Slytherins.

"I think I prefer this name better." He said, after he'd finished his perusal of her body, "What colour are you wearing today, anyway? I don't think it's fair that you showed Malfoy, Weasley and Potter, when's our turn?"

Hermione, whose face had been portraying the confusion and impatience she was feeling, suddenly understood exactly what they were talking about and her face must have showed it too, because the boys suddenly began chuckling. She decided right then she was going to kill those Silver Marauders.

"I have no idea what you're on about, but it sounds ridiculous," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice as steady and confident as possible, while inside she was freaking out completely.

The brown haired boys grinned again. "I'm sure you do, Frills. If not, you're the only one who doesn't know."

Hermione scowled, trying to ignore the panic rising in her. "You're full of it," she said, before walking off.

The first thing Hermione noticed when she reached the entrance hall were the numerous people staring at her and whispering. She tried to ignore them, telling herself that they probably didn't even know the full story of what happened. The second was a flash of blond hair a few feet away.

Hermione narrowed her eyes toward the teen. He was leaning casually against the stone wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his book bag at his feet, a bored expression on his face. He looked every part the aristocrat, and it annoyed Hermione to no end.

His grey eyes met hers and he stared blankly at her for a moment before raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Hi Frills," Hermione turned to scowl at Pansy Parkinson and her cronies, "I heard you invested in some lingerie. It's much better than those virgin knickers you had." She sneered. "Rumour has it you write Draco's name on all your knickers, is that true?"

Hermione mouth gaped open, before she recovered slightly. "I would never do something so pathetic."

Pansy smirked. "But that sounds _exactly_ like something a pathetic mudblood like you would do."

Hermione's fists tightened clenched in anger. "No Pansy, we've all heard about how you've stalked him for years. More than likely it's _you_ who has his name written on your knickers, that's if you haven't actually stolen a pair of his instead."

Pansy's face reddened, and she scowled, before walking off into the Great Hall. Hermione turned back to find Draco had been watching the whole interaction, and was now wearing the biggest shit-eating grin on his imperial features.

Hermione glared as she made her way over to him, ready to give them all a piece of her mind. Draco stood off the wall as Hermione approached; Potter and Weasley were talking to a couple of simpering girls, but when they noticed her approaching they sported identical grins as Draco.

"Well if it isn't Frills coming to grace us with her swottish presence," said Potter teasingly. "Just a shame you've got your pants on today, I'd love to have seen what colour knickers you're wearing."

He walked forward and stood alarmingly close to her, his arm attempting to snake around her waist, much to the dismay of the girl he'd been in previous conversation with. Hermione made a face of disgust and pushed him away. He grinned again.

"You did look very nice for a change, Granger. Perhaps I could see it in private one day?"

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. "So I see you're back to being a disgusting pervert, Potter. Have you forgotten about the nasty hex and good kick to the bollocks I gave you? Because if that didn't say 'you're a disgusting git and I hate you', I don't know what will."

Hermione heard Draco and Weasley snickering, as Potter's face contorted into a sneer. He sent his friends identical threatening looks that silenced them, but it didn't stop them smirking.

"So I take it you don't like your new nickname?" Potter asked teasingly, though he still looked pissed off.

"Obviously," Hermione answered, crossing her arms, "What did you tell people? You're the one that used your perverted spell on me, you git."

Potter shrugged, "Yeah, but no one needs to know that, all they care about is that the nerdy book-worm wears sexy little frilly knickers. Who would've thought?"

Hermione felt her face redden as the two girls standing behind Potter began whispering furiously, before racing off into the Great hall to spread the gossip. Hermione shot daggers at their back, before turning back to Potter and pulling out her wand angrily. Potter glanced at it before turning to Draco and Weasley and laughing.

"Honestly Granger, are you going to try and hex my bollocks again? This time I'm going to have to hex you back." He pulled out his own wand, fingering it casually in his hand.

Hermione made an expression of mock thought, before shaking her head. "No, I think I've had enough dealing with that part of your body, I was thinking just some all-over damage this time."

Potter scoffed, "We'll see, Granger."

He looked around the entrance hall and Hermione noticed that it had emptied significantly, with only a couple of stragglers hanging about. Potter looked back at her.

"Just making sure there aren't any teachers about, I've got plans tonight and I don't want detention. You wouldn't know about that though would you, Granger? Since you've got no social life."

Hermione scowled at him, "I'd rather have no social life than be a complete and utter get-about, like you Potter. Is it ever actually in your pants?"

The two continued to bicker for a few minutes, both Draco and Weasley watching on intensely, sharing odd expressions at some of the things the pair were coming out with. After a few moments, Potter shot the first hex.

"And some people think you have a muggle STD from that hex I gave you," Hermione chuckled, "If you're wondering why you haven't had as many girls, they think you've got a little thing called 'Herpes'."

Potters face contorted first into shock, then it reddened with rage, he lifted his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in the Great hall, Blaise sat at the Slytherin table playing with his eggs, completely bored. He wasn't sure where his friends were this morning, as he'd left early to try and meet up with Luna on the staircases to apologise. He had missed her however, as she was already in the Great hall when he'd entered.<p>

He looked toward the Ravenclaw table. Luna sat at the end, with empty seats between her and the nearest person. She didn't seem to notice or care about this, and sat there dreamily munching on a piece of toast. Blaise couldn't help but admire her spirit.

He subconsciously reached into the pocket of his robe and felt the dry leaves of the mistletoe he had picked the day they went to Hogsmeade together. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he remembered how excited she was looking for mistletoe's. He was hoping to give this one to her as a token of friendship; maybe she would be more forgiving if he showed her that he didn't care if she was a little odd. He personally thought it was rather endearing.

He saw her leave her spot at the table some minutes later, and make her way to the doors; he got up, abandoning his own unfinished breakfast and strode after her. Just as she reached the doors, he caught up and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and looked at him, a flicker of surprise and hesitation crossing her face as she saw who it was.

"Oh, hello, Blaise," she said quietly in her dreamy voice.

Blaise swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. "Hello Luna. Um, how have you been?" He blurted out, unsure how else to start a conversation with her.

She gave him an odd look, which coming from Luna was saying something, before shrugging. "I've been ok, I suppose."

Blaise looked surprised, "Really? Because I heard that, well, people weren't exactly being nice to you...because of me." He added hesitantly.

Luna shrugged again. "It's not anything I'm not already used to, so you don't have to feel bad. I don't blame you for it."

Blaise let out a relieved breath. "Well I'm glad. Does that mean you aren't still mad at me about what happened at Hogsmeade?" He asked hopefully.

Luna watched him for a moment, her blue eyes twinkling. "Well, you did act like a real git," she began slowly, Blaise's shoulders sunk in disappointment, "but I understand that you did what you thought you had to do to keep your friends. I wouldn't really understand the dynamics of friendship, having never had any myself." She said, a small smile playing on her lips.

Blaise did not think this was anything to be joked about, considering how she deserved none of what she got, but he smiled back anyway, glad to have somewhat patched things up with her. Blaise suddenly shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the dry crumpled bundle of leaves.

"Here," he said, holding the offering to her. "I found it that day at Hogsmeade. Its-,"

"Mistletoe." She finished, smiling. She took the bundle of leaves from his hand and studied it for a moment before looking up at him. "Thank you. It's the first one I've found this year. I think the Nargles may be onto me, so they've been hiding them." She said with a small frown.

"Well, I hope you find something in that one then," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "So are we ok? You're not mad? You shouldn't worry about what people say to you, you know. They're just jealous."

She smiled at him, her eyes dreamy, "Oh, I don't. It wouldn't make a difference to care, would it?"

Blaise thought for a moment, before agreeing, "I suppose not."

"Having said that though," She began, glancing around the room, "I do understand the way people in this school think, and if you want to be left alone, I suggest you don't be seen with me."

Blaise furrowed his brow, "I thought you didn't care what other people think?"

She gave him a small smile. It almost seemed pitying. "I don't, but I know you do."

With that she opened the heavy doors and walked out. Blaise stood for a moment taken aback. Had she just taken back her forgiveness? Did she not want to talk to him anymore? He'd never been more confused.

He contemplated sitting back at the Slytherin table, but as he turned he saw the faces of numerous Ravenclaw girls glaring at him, except for the apologetic one of Mandy Brocklehurst. He decided it would be best to leave, and slipped out the doors the way Luna had just moments before.

There was no sign of Luna in the entrance hall, or anybody for that matter; he was about to head down to the dungeons when he heard a bang and someone curse. He walked faster the way he was going and paused when he saw Potter, Weasley, Malfoy and Granger standing near the staircase.

He was slightly alarmed as he saw both Potter and Granger had duelling stances and both their wands were out. Weasley and Malfoy were both leaning against the wall casually, watching them like it was the most amusing thing they'd ever seen. Blaise noticed wryly that Malfoy's eyes were very much focused on Granger. If he liked her so much, why didn't he stop the duel and do her a favour for the first time in his life, Blaise thought wryly.

He saw Potter send a spell that slammed Hermione into the wall behind her quite forcefully. Blaise's heart skipped a beat, as he heard the thump, and he was certain he also saw Draco's face flinch with concern and worry as he stood upright, looking like he wanted to race to her side.

When Hermione got to her feet, with a very pissed off look on her face, Blaise saw Draco let out a silent breath and relax. If it was any other situation, Blaise might've laughed, but right now he couldn't believe the idiocy of his friends, two of which were Prefects.

He shook his head and strode over just in time to hear Hermione say, "Avis!"

He was surprised and a little confused when he saw a group of small yellow birds begin flying around Hermione's head. He made his way over to Malfoy, who was now laughing along with Potter and Weasley.

"You call that a duelling spell, Frills?" Laughed Potter.

"Frills?" Blaise questioned Draco. The blonde teen turned to his friends, tears of mirth in his eyes.

"I'll explain later," he said, in between chuckles, "This is too good to miss!"

Blaise turned back to the duelling pair in front of him. He knew he should probably break it up, but in all honestly he was curious about what Hermione was planning on doing with those birds. Surely it couldn't be _too_ harmful.

Hermione had self-satisfied smirk on her face, "I think you'd be surprised at how much damage this spell can do, Potter."

A flicker of trepidation crossed Potters face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "Let's see then, little miss know-it all." Potter sneered.

Everyone present stood upright in anticipation as Hermione waved her wand, and muttered calmly, and smoothly, "Oppugno."

The silence suddenly erupted into the sounds of angry twittering. The birds that once circled Hermione's head were now attacking Potter leaving scratches on his face, and flying towards Weasley and Malfoy who were watching on in fascinated horror.

Blaise put his hands over his head in defence, but found that none of the birds were targeting him, just his friends. Potter was screeching his head off, and Weasley and Malfoy were cursing trying to swat the angry birds away, this wasn't working however, and they were all getting covered in small red scratches. Eventually, they gave up trying to fight the birds and attempted to escape down to the dungeons; much to the horror of the three Silver marauders, the birds gave chase.

"That's what'll happen every time I hear that horrid nickname!" Hermione called after them barely containing her amusement. Blaise heard some profanities thrown back in reply.

Hermione let out a satisfied sigh, before turning to Blaise, who was unsure what to think of the whole situation. At the moment however, he was also amused, and they both broke out into uncontrollable laughter.

"That was brilliant," said Blaise, after he'd finally caught his breath, "I'm guessing they did something to deserve that?"

Hermione made a face, "You have no idea."

She went into the long-winded tale about the events of the night before. By the end of the story Blaise's eyebrows were at his hairline.

"Harry did that?" he asked incredulously. Hermione nodded. "Wow. Well, I suppose he got what he deserved then. What about Draco? You say he stopped them."

Hermione reddened slightly, "He only stopped them because he couldn't be bothered to hex me, and he was on patrol so if I went to the hospital wing, he'd be responsible."

Blaise knew there was more to it than that, but didn't comment.

"I suppose," he said instead. "We should probably get to class now anyway."

Hermione agreed, saying a quick goodbye, before they both went their respective ways.

* * *

><p>In Ancient Runes, Hermione sat down in her usual seat trying to ignore the whispers that had started when she entered the room. She heard the seat next to scrape along the floor, and turned her head to come face to face with the sympathetic smile of Wayne Hopkins.<p>

Hermione gave him a pointed look, "Sure you wanna sit there?"

He scoffed. "'Course. I don't listen to the rumours, and even if I did, the ones going around are a little too far out there to be believed. I mean, I'm not even sure the most obsessive girl would write a guy's name on her underwear. It seems very strange."

"Of course it's strange, not to mention I hate those gits."

Wayne grinned. "That's why I don't believe it, you're the only person in this school who hates those wankers as much as I do."

Hermione thought briefly about telling him the whole truth on the matter, but decided against it. She was just relieved to have someone on her side, and didn't want to push it too much. Her respect for Wayne Hopkins grew because of this, and from that moment on, she decided that befriending him wouldn't be such a terrible idea.

* * *

><p>In Arithmancy, Blaise sat at the table next to a sulking Draco. The blond teen had not spoken two words since he entered the classroom.<p>

When he had entered, Blaise had noticed a few large scratches across the boys' usually flawless alabaster skin; he had the expression of a dog that'd just been kicked, and as he'd sat down in the seat next to Blaise, he crossed his arms and stared narrow eyed at the professor, silently sulking.

Blaise stared at him amused; he could really be immature sometimes. He sent Draco an elbow two the rib. The other boy jumped and scowled.

"What?" He asked, angrily.

Blaise couldn't keep the amused smirk off his face, which only served to anger Draco more. "Shove it." The blond said, before turning away and staring stony-faced at the professor again.

"Are you really that pissed off about it?" Blaise asked, as he turned to jot some notes on his parchment. "I don't really think you should be, I mean, how many times have you hexed and taunted her over the years. It was bound to come back on you eventually."

"It's not that." Draco muttered, still staring ahead.

"Ok. What is it then?" Blaise asked.

"Nothing." Draco said. Blaise sighed impatiently, shaking his head before turning back to his work.

After a few moments of silence, Draco spoke.

"She didn't hex you."

Blaise looked up from his work, giving Draco a confused look. "What?"

"She didn't hex you. She hexed us, but not you. That's what the problem is."

Blaise stared at Draco incredulously. "That's what's bothering you? Are you kidding?"

Draco shrugged, looking slightly ashamed. Blaise could've laughed.

"She didn't hex me because I'm nice to her. Didn't I tell you she won't like you if you treat her like shit?"

Draco set his jaw. "Who say's I even want her to like me?"

Blaise gave his friend a withering look. "Well you certainly wouldn't be worrying about this if you didn't."

"Not necessarily." Draco said, stubbornly.

Blaise sighed in annoyance, before turning back to his work. If Draco at this point wasn't willing to admit that he wanted Hermione, then Blaise wasn't going to humour him. After another few moments of silence, Draco spoke again.

"What did you talk about?" He asked, quietly.

Blaise looked up at him, giving him a questioning look.

"When we ran off being chased by those stupid birds, you stayed, what did you talk about?"

Blaise wasn't sure why Draco cared about that, but decided to tell him anyway. "She told me about what you guys did to her last night. To be honest, if I were her, you'd be getting a lot worse than angry birds."

"I didn't even have a part in that." Draco argued, defensively.

Blaise nodded. "She did mention that."

Draco looked taken aback, "She did?"

Blaise nodded again. "Yes, but she still had a few choice words to describe you with. Like I said before, if you want her to like you, just be a bit more decent. I know it's hard for an arrogant git like you." Blaise joked.

Draco shook his head. "I never said I wanted that. She's a mudblood, Zabini, end of story."

Blaise narrowed his eyes at his friend. "It's obvious to me that it's what you want, otherwise you wouldn't be questioning me about her so much. And who cares what she is, I didn't think all that bullshit your father feeds you would actually stop you going after what you want."

Draco clenched his fists together in front of him, "Just lay off it, alright."

Blaise snorted incredulously, "Fine. But if that stuff really bothers you, then you'll never have her anyway. And she'll never know, nor will she ever care."

Blaise barely noticed the grimace flicker across Draco's face as he turned back to his work. Yes, he had been harsh, but someone had to push Draco in the right direction. Someone had to let him know what an idiot he was being. He hoped he was getting somewhere with the teen, because he was silent for the remainder of the lesson.

* * *

><p>Potions with the Gryffindors was the last lesson of the day for the Silver Marauders, and Blaise was sure that none of them wanted to be there. Potter and Weasley sat at their usual table with similar scratches on their faces to Draco, but had vengeful expressions on their faces when Hermione walked in with Neville.<p>

"She's so dead," said Potter menacingly.

"Who?" Blaise asked, barely paying attention.

Potter rolled his eyes, "Granger, of course. Who does she think she is?"

Blaise chanced a glance toward Draco to find him also looking at the girl across the room. His expression was less deadly, however.

"We'll definitely need to get her back for that. I was supposed to meet a girl tonight, but it looks like I've gotten attacked by a cat!"

Blaise sighed impatiently, "Why don't you just forget this little war you've got going on?"

Potter looked scandalized. "Are you serious, Zabini? Look what she did to my face!"

"It's not as though you didn't deserve it," Blaise said, repeating his earlier sentiments on the matter.

"Have you got a thing for her or something? Since when do you care what we do." Potter accused.

Blaise shook his head in disbelief, but noticed an accusing glare he was getting from Draco. He sighed.

"No I don't. I'm just saying, if she's so below you, why do you bother with this?"

"Because she doesn't understand that she's below us yet." Potter said, as though it were obvious.

"But we'll soon fix that, right Malfoy?"

Malfoy who had still been staring at the girl across the room, quickly focused his gaze elsewhere, "Yeah, sure." He agreed, noncommittally.

Blaise gave Draco a disbelieving look, but the teen didn't even notice.

Today was the day they would finish working on their Polyjuice potion. After one month of brewing and regular tending, the final ingredients would be added and it would be submitted for marking. As they broke off into their partners, Blaise made his way over to where Hermione was seated. He couldn't help but notice the smug look on her face every time she eyed one of his friends.

"You're looking awfully pleased with yourself," he commented lightly, as he sat on the stool next to her.

She smiled at him, "I suppose I've just had an excellent day today."

"Really? I thought it would be horrible given the rumours going around."

Her face darkened slightly. "Yes, well, despite that things have gone ok. It seems not everyone is so keen to believe those rumours."

"I'm glad to hear that, Hermione," Blaise said. "I'd be careful though, you've really pushed them this time. You know firsthand how they are."

"I'm not scared of them, Blaise. I can handle myself; I think I proved that this morning." Hermione said, bristling slightly.

"I'm not saying that you can't, I'm just saying, they're probably planning something to get you back."

Hermione shrugged. "They can try."

Blaise felt that she didn't really understand the seriousness of the matter, but decided not to push her. He didn't feel like arguing with people today.

They spent the rest of the lesson finishing up their Polyjuice potion, before scooping a sample into a vial and handing it in.

* * *

><p>"Do you think you're potion was right?" Blaise asked Draco as they walked back to their dorms after the lesson.<p>

Draco nodded, "I barely let Longbottom touch it, so it's perfect."

"Fair enough. Plans for tonight?" Blaise asked.

Draco shrugged. "Not sure yet. What about you?"

"Probably just an early one." Blaise said, as they entered the portrait hole.

Draco nodded, and as they walked into their dorm, Blaise didn't notice the odd mischievous twinkle in his friends' eye.

* * *

><p>After dinner that night, Hermione once again found herself in the library in her secluded corner, working on her homework. She was currently working on a Transfiguration essay, and was half way through when she discovered she needed another book to reference from.<p>

She stood and made her way into the Transfiguration section, scanning the rows, and pulling books off every now and then to flip through them. She had just pulled a rather thick tome off the shelf when she noticed someone standing on the other side of the shelf.

She peered through and recognised the person as Blaise. She decided to go see what he was looking for, since he was most probably working on a Transfiguration assignment too. Their class work always corresponded slightly.

As she walked around the shelves and saw him looking around, it looked like he was searching for someone not something.

She also noticed that he looked quite strange. He wasn't holding himself the way he usually did; his stance was far more casual. She dismissed the thought and stepped forward.

"Hi Blaise," she said, smiling.

The Italian whipped his body around to face, eyes wide, looking thoroughly surprised. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Uh, hi, Granger." He said, in a tense voice Hermione had never heard him use before. She gave him an odd look.

"Are you alright? You look a little...off." She said uncertainly, eyeing the way he shifted from one foot to the other.

He noticed her gaze and stood a little straighter. "I'm fine. Really."

Hermione gave him another odd look, before nodding slowly. "Alright. So do you have a Transfiguration assignment too? If you're looking for books, you probably won't find any. I sort of have them all at my table." She admitted, smiling sheepishly.

He gave her a small smile, "Typical know-it-all."

Hermione's smile faltered, and a flicker of hurt crossed her face. Blaise seemed to notice because he opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him. "Well if you want to get those books, then come on."

She turned and walked out of the shelves back to her desk, carrying the large tome in her arms. She heard Blaise hesitate for a moment, before his foots steps caught up quickly.

"Gra-Hermione," he corrected, "why do you get annoyed about being called a know-it-all, but not a mudblood?"

Hermione stopped abruptly and turned to face him with a disbelieving expression on her face. Blaise, who had not been expecting it, ran straight into her. There was an awkward moment where their chests were touching, before he stepped back quickly. Hermione gave him another odd look. She seemed to be giving him a lot of those tonight.

"When have I ever said I don't not like the name 'mudblood'?" She asked, crossing her arms.

Blaise hesitated. "Uhhh..."

"That's right, I never said it. I don't like being called a mudblood and I don't like being called a know-it-all. They are both things that I am, and the fact that people use them in a negative way, like I should be insulted, makes me angry. Malfoy is one of those people, you should know that. Despite the fact he throws it around so frequently, I still don't get used to it, nor does it hurt any less, I just don't let it show because I refuse to give him the satisfaction." She finished her rant, breathless and slightly flushed.

Blaise looked a little taken aback by her explosion. "So you hate Malfoy?"

She threw her hands up in frustration and continued walking to her table. She fell on her chair, and was slightly irked to see Blaise take the seat on the opposite side.

She raised an eyebrow, "I thought you usually sat at that table?" She said, motioning the table a few feet away where she'd always seen him sit.

He eyed the desk, then shrugged, turning back to her, "I'm in the middle of a conversation. You didn't answer my question."

"Why do you want to know that?" She asked, bristling at his determination.

He leaned back, arms behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. It was a pose Hermione had never seen him in before. He was usually modest, not so _haughty_. "Let's just say I'm curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

Blaise gave her an odd look. "I'll take my chances."

Hermione sighed. "What do you think, Blaise?"

The Italian thought for a moment, staring at a book on the table, before reluctantly meeting her eyes. "I'd say yes."

She gave him a sad smile, "Yes."

She was surprised that he looked so crestfallen on the matter. Since when did Blaise care whether or not she hated Malfoy? Last she knew, he knew exactly what she thought of the blond teen.

After a moment, Blaise cleared his throat, "Is it only because he calls you a mudblood?"

Hermione shook her head, "It's the taunting and hexing too. He's hurt me in ways I'm sure he's not even aware of. Not that he would care. It would probably satisfy him." She said deprecatingly.

Blaise leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with interest, "What ways?"

Hermione shook her head, "I don't want to talk about this with you."

"I promise I won't use it against you." He said, sincerely.

Hermione thought for a moment, before sighing in resignation.

"In first year," she began timidly, "I didn't hate him so much...if you know what I mean." She looked up at Blaise to gauge his reaction. His eyes were wide in shock but he didn't comment, silently urging her to continue. She took a deep breath and went on.

"When I first came to Hogwarts, I knew nothing about magic or the world here or anything, being a Muggleborn. I remember hearing stories he would tell people about his childhood. It sounded so magical. After a while I used to seek him out just to hear them, I wished I could talk to him. Be near him. I really was smitten." She laughed, wryly.

"Then he started to hate me and the bullying and name-calling began. I didn't know why at first. Then I realised it was because of my blood. It was a horrible year. I liked him so much and he just taunted me. I remember I went home that summer with a book on wizard Genealogy; I went through my family tree hoping to find some sort of wizarding name there." She shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. "That summer I gave up on him; I was angry that he'd made me question myself. Ever since then, I've genuinely hated him. He hasn't exactly made it difficult has he?"

She looked up. Blaise was staring at her like he'd never seen her before. She felt her cheeks redden as she looked down to avoid his eyes.

"I've never told anyone that," she said quietly, "not even Neville. I'm sure you understand how pathetic it makes me seem."

Blaise didn't answer. She looked up and saw him still staring at her wide-eyed. After a moment he muttered, "I don't believe it."

"Yes, well, that's why I don't tell people that story." She said briskly.

They were silent for a moment, before Blaise spoke, "Don't you think you could feel that way again?"

Hermione laughed the idea away. "I was young and stupid, I didn't know what he was really like. I could never feel like that about someone that would hurt me the way he does, and besides he'd never feel that way. There's no point in even dwelling on it."

Blaise sunk in his chair, "You shouldn't be so sure about things."

Hermione gave him a questioning look, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you don't know what people are really like until you take the time to know them."

Hermione sighed, "It's not a case of misunderstanding, it's the fact that to him I'm a mudblood, and that's all I'll ever be. Now can we just stop talking about this?"

She was becoming tense discussing such a sensitive topic; she wished he would go back to discussing books and homework like they normally did.

"Alright." Blaise agreed, leaning back in his seat and adopting a relaxed pose.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "You didn't even bring your bag or books." She commented. He smirked and shrugged.

"Seems I forgot. Suppose I'll just watch you." And he did. For the next 15 minutes, Hermione attempted to work under his gaze. Every now and then she glanced up and saw him staring at her deep in thought. Occasionally he would ask her a question, but mostly he was silent.

That is, until he suddenly shot up from his chair, eyeing the clock. "I've gotta go. It was nice seeing you, Granger." He gave her a warm smile, before striding away through the shelves.

Hermione stared after him incredulously, before shaking her head and resuming her work.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Hermione was still scribbling away on her parchment, when the seat at the table across from her was pulled put and someone sat down. Curious as to who it was, Hermione looked up from her page and furrowed her brow.<p>

Blaise sat across from her, shuffling his parchment on his desk and pulling out his ink and quill. He looked up at her, then down to the books on her desk and sighed.

"How did I know you'd have all the books I need?" He asked, rhetorically. Hermione's eyes narrowed further.

"I told you before you could borrow them." She said, confused. This time Blaise gave her an odd look.

"What are you talking about? I've been in my dorm all night, I only just came up here because I was bored."

Hermione shook her head slowly, "No. You were just here. We talked about...things." She finished awkwardly.

Blaise sighed impatiently. "Hermione, I definitely wasn't here. I was in my dorm." He insisted.

Hermione paled, her eyes widening. He was calling her by her first name again. "Oh my god. Who was it?"

Blaise looked confused. "What?"

"Someone was Polyjuiced to look like you, they must've been! I told them things. Embarrassing things! It was probably one of your friends, Blaise." She said, her head buried in her hands, "I'm going to kill them!"

Blaise suddenly understood, and he thought he knew exactly who it was. "What did you tell them?"

Hermione hesitated, "They asked me about Malfoy. No doubt to get more juice to fuel those stupid rumours with. They're going to try and humiliate me even more."

Blaise still wasn't sure what exactly about Malfoy could be so bad that it could be used against her, but he knew asking her wouldn't get him an answer. Instead, he repacked his things.

"I've gotta go. Don't worry, I don't think whatever you told them will get out." He reassured Hermione.

She looked up from her hands, tears in her eyes. "If it does I'm going to hex them so bad they won't walk for a week," she threatened.

Blaise nodded, but he had a feeling the threats weren't necessary. He left the library and headed back down to the dungeons.

He knew that it definitely wasn't Potter or Weasley; he had seen then leave to meet girls in the Astronomy tower two hours ago. That only left one suspect; the person he had thought of in the first place. Malfoy.

Blaise knew that Hermione's explanation for why someone had pretended to be him was not right. Malfoy wouldn't use whatever she told him against her, at least he hoped not; Blaise suspected it was more personal for Draco. Either way, Blaise was pissed off about it.

He entered his dorm to find it empty, that is, except for one blond-haired teen lying on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Blaise threw his bag down loudly on the floor, Draco didn't flinch at all.

Blaise glared at his friend, before sitting on his own bed. He jumped when Draco spoke, breaking the silence.

"I'm losing it." Draco said so quietly, Blaise barely heard him.

Blaise scoffed. "You don't need to tell me that. Where'd you get my hair from anyway?" He asked, barely containing his anger.

He looked up to find Draco's head turned toward him smirking. "Pillow slip. You should be worried. I think you're going bald."

Blaise was not amused. "It's not funny, you wanker."

Draco rolled his eyes and sat up. "Come on, it's not like I did any harm."

"Why did you do it in the first place?" Blaise asked angrily, "Are you that gutless to talk to her as yourself?"

This seemed to hit a sensitive spot with Draco because his face contorted angrily, and he stood up, fists clenched. "You don't know what I wanted to talk to her about."

Blaise laughed mirthlessly. "Oh come on. Your bullshit might work on other people, but I know you. You like her, just admit it already."

Draco shook his head. "I don't."

Blaise made a noise of frustration, "You do! Can you not even see it? You stare at her, tease her, you've spent more time focusing on her than any other girl in your bloody life! Just accept it, change and maybe you might stand a chance!"

"Shut up, alright?" Draco yelled, "You make out like it's this simple thing! Maybe for you it is, you're mother doesn't give a crap who you associate with. You know what my father's like! It doesn't matter what I feel for her, at the end of the day she's a mudblood; she said it herself!"

Blaise was taken aback by Draco's outburst, but didn't pity him. "If you really can live with that, then stop torturing her, and find a girl who fits your father's preference. I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard. Ginny's a Pureblood."

Draco shook his head, a pained expression that Blaise hadn't seen for year adorned his face. "I can't."

"Cant or wont?" Blaise asked.

Draco hesitated, "Both."

"Why do you even want her, Draco? All you ever do is claim that you hate her, you taunt her constantly, why?"

Draco sat at the end of his bed, looking tired. After a moment, he spoke.

"Everything I say I hate her for is why I...want her. It pisses me off that other people; you for instance, get to talk to her every day, while I have to watch from a distance, pretending I really hate her. In fact, I always thought I did hate her. Then one day it just hit me. "

Blaise watched him, waiting for him to go on.

"The only way I can get near her is by taunting her. And in all honesty, it's the highlight of my day. I'll keep doing it if it means I get to have her focus her attention on me for a bit. But fuck, I wish I could just forget this, Blaise. Just my luck that it's her." He shook his head, as though cursing Merlin for his life.

Blaise stared at his friend wide-eyed. He'd finally admitted it. After all this time he'd finally come straight out and said it. And he didn't look happy about it either.

Draco sat staring at his feet, his hands clasped in front of him, arms resting on his knees. He didn't look like he'd had a weight taken off his shoulders at all; in fact, he looked more confused than ever. Blaise was certain this must've been the most difficult thing for him to admit.

"So what now?" Blaise asked.

Draco shrugged. "She hates me. I'm not sure there's anything to do."

"You could always stop being such a wanker?" Blaise suggested, lightly.

Draco broke into a smile. "But that's part of my charm."

Blaise scoffed, but smiled in return. "Modesty too, I see."

"She said she liked me at one point." Draco admitted, hesitantly.

Blaise was surprised, but gave his friend and encouraging smile. "Well there's hope for you yet."

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, I'm just not sure what I'll do with that hope yet."

* * *

><p>Meanwhile in the library, Hermione had given up all attempts at completing her assignment; she was far too stressed about the inevitable rumours that would be going around the school tomorrow. She groaned and slammed her book shut, taking it back to its rightful place on the shelf.<p>

She packed up her things and exited the library earlier than she normally would. Walking down the corridor, she heard the sounds of footsteps behind her but ignored them, that is until she felt a hand cover her mouth, and a silencing spell cast that prevent her from crying out.

She was pushed to the ground, and when she turned around she wasn't surprised to see Potter and Weasley standing above her laughing. Hermione scowled, before reaching for her wand, only to discover Weasley twirling it in his fingers.

"Sorry Granger, but this is pay back for this morning." Potter said, grinning down at her, "You can have your wand back, but we're doing this properly. I discovered an interesting book in Potions today, with a fascinating spell in it that I wanted to try out. Bet you're wishing you didn't fuck with us now."

Hermione went to retort, but nothing came out. Both boys laughed. Hermione scowled harder. Weasley threw her wand at her.

"There you go," he said, "Now let's see how well you go with non-verbal spells, since you're such a know-it-all and everything."

Hermione stood and pointed her wand at Potter, who had his out in return. Weasley leaned against the stone wall, watching on intently. Hermione eyed Potter who was looking far too smug.

'Expelliarmus!" She thought, sending and unprepared Potter flying back forcefully down the corridor. The boy jumped up immediately, sneering at her.

"You're a little cheat, aren't you?" Potter hissed. "Stupefy!"

Hermione blocked the spell with a silent shielding spell, and sent a stunning spell back at him, which he blocked also. They continued duelling back and forth until an impatient Weasley spoke up from the sidelines.

"Just use the bloody spell you found today already, I wanna see what it does." He insisted.

Hermione flung another disarming spell at Potter while he was distracted, smirking when it knocked him to the ground.

"That's it, Granger." Potter said, angrily. "Sectum-Sempra!"

Hermione had not been prepared to stop the spell and gasped when she felt a painful slicing feeling all over her chest and stomach. She crouched forward, cupping her arms around herself. Potter and Weasley leaned forward in anticipation.

"What did it do?" Weasley asked.

"I dunno," Potter replied. Hermione heard them walk closer to her. She was breathing in small pants, feeling the heat and sweat gather at her forehead as the warm sensation of blood seeped down her chest. She looked up at the boys, giving them a pleading look. They no longer looked smug, but rather completely horrified.

"Shit. Harry, she's bleeding. A lot." Weasley said, his voice shaking.

"I know! I can see that! Fuck. What do we do? If someone catches us we'll get expelled!" Potter exclaimed, frantically running his hands through his hair.

"Shit," Weasley hissed again, "Let's just take her and leave her outside the hospital wing. We'll knock, or something. Madam Pomfrey will hear."

Their voices were becoming more muffled as the blood was rushing around Hermione's head to her ears, "Please." She managed to croak out, lucky that their spells had faded away due to their stress.

They both turned to her, frantic expressions on their face, before agreeing on something and stepping over, picking her up by her arms. They carried her down the corridor, until finally they came to the doors of the Hospital wing.

They leaned her bloody form on the door, and Hermione watched as they frantically knocked on the wooden doors, before racing down the corridor leaving her in silence, alone and in pain.

She had almost given up hope when she heard the Hospital doors open, before the head of the nurse popped out, scanning the corridor before spotting her crumpled form against the wall.

"My goodness, child!" The nurse exclaimed, racing to her side, "What's happened to you?"

The last thing Hermione heard before the world went black was the sound of Madam Pomfrey telling her to keep her eyes open as she was levitated into the hospital wing.

**A/N: Wow. Sorry about the long time it took to get this up. I was away for a bit longer than I thought, and we're having some pretty bad floods around here, which left me stranded. I should be back to posting every few days now, so that's good.**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Thanks everyone who's reviewed and subscribed. I got 30 on my last chapter, which is freaking insane :o I love hearing what you guys think, and incorporating your suggestions in every now and then. I had been requested off a couple of people to have Hermione end up in the hospital wing because of the boys, so there should be more of that in the next chapter.**

**Also, Draco finally admitted out loud that he likes her (as if we didn't already know :P), so the story should start rolling along quite smoothly from here...at least I hope haha. Anyway guys, let me know what you thought about this chapter. Til next time, cheers!**

**Leni**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7**_

_...in which Draco avenges Hermione._

* * *

><p>Four boys sat nervously in the office of Professor Snape, though their reasons for looking so fearful were different. Two of them were expecting to be kicked out of Hogwarts that night, and the other two were wondering what exactly was going on, having not been told anything about the nature of their summoning.<p>

Blaise chanced a glance at his friends. Draco was looking slightly nervous, despite the fact that they both had no idea what had happened, and certainly had had no part in it. He couldn't blame his friend either; one harsh stare from Professor Snape would have you admitting to a murder you didn't even commit.

Potter and Weasley looked exceedingly more nervous, and Blaise couldn't help but narrow his eyes suspiciously at the pair. What had they done that was going to get them all in deep shit?

Weasley met his eye and gave him a shaky smile, barely hiding his fear; in fact, neither Potter nor Weasley looked confident at all. This couldn't be good if even those two lost their arrogance.

Blaise's thoughts were interrupted by the office door slamming shut. All four boys jumped at the sound that seemed to echo through the tense silence. Professor Snape's heavy footsteps approached the table and his black robes swished as he sat in the high backed chair across from the four boys.

He stared at them all in turn, his dark eyes unsettling them. Blaise could hear the nervous swallowing of someone next to him, as he resisted the urge to look away from the penetrating gaze of the Potions master. He didn't, however, as he knew it would only make things worse. After what seemed like an hour of intimidating silence, the Professor spoke.

"I'm sure you know what has landed you here," he drawled, glancing at each of their faces, "and I'm quite surprised you allowed it to get this far."

There was a moment of silence before Draco spoke up. "Uh, actually sir. I have no idea what you're talking about; I'm not sure any of us do." He said, glancing between his friends for confirmation.

Blaise nodded, but Potter and Weasley simply sunk lower in their seats. Draco noticed this and gave them a questioning look, before the professor spoke again.

"You're saying none of you know anything about the hex that nearly killed Hermione Granger tonight?" He asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Draco gaped, eyes wide, "What?"

"Miss Granger was hexed tonight. A very dark and dangerous hex; I would know, since I am the inventor of it."

All the boys gaped at the professor. Blaise had a million thoughts running through his mind. Would Hermione be ok? Had Potter and Weasley hexed her? How had they known about such a serious hex?

"Is she...ok?" Draco asked quietly. Blaise looked toward his friend to find his face paler than normal.

"She will be fine, eventually," said Snape. "It was pure luck that I was delivering a batch of healing potions to the Hospital wing tonight. The spell is very dark magic, normal healing spells will not work. If I had not turned up and performed the correct healing spell, she would have certainly bled to death."

By now, all the faces of the boys were pale, and grim. Snape ignored their obvious distress and continued.

"I need to know who did it." He said plainly, looking between them.

"W-what makes you think it was one of us?" Potter asked, his voice filled with trepidation.

Snape's eyes narrowed considerably. "Because, Mr Potter, I am not as blind as many teachers around this school. I see things others do not. Miss Granger's records show she has been to the Hospital wing one hundred and seventy three times in her six years here, with unexplainable injuries. I am aware of enough to know that ninety-five percent of those injuries were likely caused by one, if not all of you. So do not think I am another naive teacher, I merely let the pecking order work itself out."

He was quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in.

"This, however, is a completely different matter; you've nearly committed murder. I'm not sure you understand how close to a stint in Azkaban you nearly were when you left her bleeding outside the hospital wing and ran off to save your own skin."

Blaise gaped and shared a look with Draco, who was looking equally disturbed. Potter and Weasley were starting to sweat a little under the pressure. Blaise knew then that it was them; he didn't want to believe that his friends could be capable of such things, but given that they'd all done similar things to Hermione over the years, he wasn't that surprised. That fact disturbed him.

"I will ask again. Who did it?" Snape questioned, sternly, punctuating each word. "I will warn you that it is best to admit it now under your own wills, because once Miss Granger wakes up and points the finger, there will be no getting out of it."

There was a moment of silence, in which the only sound was of each nervous breath expelled from the boys. Eventually Potter spoke up. "W-we didn't know what the spell would do. We just were mucking around, duelling with her. She knows how to hold her own in a duel, so we weren't worried about hurting her. We really didn't mean to." Potter insisted, his voice shaky.

Blaise saw Draco's head snap to the side to stare at his friend as he spoke. He also noticed Draco's fist tense around the arm of the chair. "You did this?" He asked Potter.

Potter nodded at his friend, at least having the decency to look ashamed, before turning back to face Snape. "I didn't mean it, I swear. We didn't know what it would do." He insisted. Weasley next to him was nodding wide-eyed and frantic.

Snape leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "Where did you find this spell? It is not one I've taught you over the holidays at Malfoy manor, unlike 'Levicorpus'. It is much more serious. Where did you hear of it?"

"We didn't hear of it anywhere." Weasley corrected. "We were in Potions today; Harry had forgotten his book, so he grabbed one off the shelf. It had writing all through it. Instructions. There was a page that had the spell written down. It said 'for enemies.' We didn't think it would do- we didn't think it would hurt her so bad. When she started to bleed everywhere, we panicked. We didn't know what else to do, so we left her at the hospital wing."

Blaise looked at Weasley with disgust, and noticed Draco was feeling similarly, as there were two identical patches of pink on his cheeks. A clear indication of anger.

Snape nodded. "I see. Where is this book now?"

"In my book bag." Potter admitted.

"I want you to bring that book to me immediately. As for your punishment, I think 50 points each and a months' worth of detention will suffice. I must warn you, it is only so because Miss Granger has never made any formal complaints against you that you get off so easily, but if a similar incident happens again, you will not be so lucky. Similarly, your ignorance on the nature of the spell shows you did not intend to harm her so; therefore I am being more lenient than I normally would. You are dismissed." Snape said. He flicked his wand and the office door swung open.

Blaise and Draco stared at Snape incredulously, outraged and shocked at the lack of punishment and reaction from the professor. Potter and Weasley displayed similar expressions, though they were in disbelief at their luck of not being expelled.

The four boys stood and made their way outside. Once they began walking to their common room, Potter let out a relieved, almost hysterical laugh.

"I thought we were bloody done for," he commented, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Aye," agreed Weasley, who still seemed too shocked to form a proper sentence.

"I can't believe you got off so easily. You nearly killed her." Blaise said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I know, right?" Potter said, grinning, clearly misinterpreting his friends' words. "We're bloody lucky."

"You should've been expelled. It's what you deserve."

Everyone turned to look at Draco. Potter and Weasley stared at him incredulously, with a slight defensive glint in their eyes. Blaise was merely surprised the teen had spoken out against his friends.

"What? You can't be serious? You saw all the stuff she did to me. I'm not saying I'm glad I hexed her, but perhaps that spell will teach her her rightful place." Potter shrugged, nonchalantly.

Blaise stared at him, shocked that he didn't seem to give a crap at all. Draco stared at him like he'd just been covered him dragon dung.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Draco spat, angrily. "You nearly _killed_ her and you're sitting there talking about payback and lessons learned?"

Potter gave him an accusing look. "Since when do you care whether we taunt her or not? You've been the worst of all of us. How many times have you sent her to the hospital wing, huh? Bit hypocritical if you ask me. You hate her more than we do."

Weasley nodded. "It's true, mate."

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but closed it. There was a moment of silence before he spoke. "I've never hurt her that bad," he argued, weakly.

Potter scoffed. "We didn't mean to do that, and besides, you've hurt her plenty of times. Half the time I'm not even sure why. All I know is Granger and I are even; I'm not going to go near her from now on. But let's see how long _you_ last with that, since half the time it was you who dragged us along with you."

Draco looked away an unreadable expression on his face. Blaise decided to speak up and give him a moment to gather himself. "So you're saying you'll leave Granger alone from now on?" Blaise asked Potter and Weasley.

Weasley nodded, "I never had anything against her. Sure, she's a swot, but half the time it was just for fun. I'm not risking getting expelled over it though. I'm done." He held his hands up in surrendering gesture.

Potter nodded in agreement at his friends' explanation. "We only ever really went there because Malfoy did," he said, glancing at the blond who was still looking away, "She was fun to rile up. It was only when she started hexing me that it became personal. But I think that's sorted out now, and we're even. I'm definitely done as long as she is. Perhaps you should try that too, Malfoy, half the time it was you who went after her anyway."

Potter shrugged, before turning away and walking towards the portrait hole. Weasley nodded at Blaise and Malfoy, before he turned to follow. Blaise watched as they disappeared, before turning to Draco.

The teen was standing there, hands in pockets, staring solemnly at the wall. Blaise wasn't sure what was going through the teens mind at that moment, and he wasn't sure he should push him to talk. Draco however, spoke, much to the relief of Blaise.

"It's my fault," he muttered, finally turning his grey eyes on Blaise.

Blaise was taken aback by his defeated tone. "You're not the one that hexed her."

Draco scoffed. "Didn't you hear them? I'm the one that encouraged them, all because I wanted an excuse to be near her. I may as well have hexed her myself."

"Don't say that, mate." Blaise said, stepping toward his friend. "You may have started this, but you finished it. This whole thing was between Hermione and Harry."

Draco gave Blaise a disbelieving look. "I made it fun for them. I convinced them it was fun, just so they wouldn't question why I kept doing it."

Blaise hesitated for a moment, before asking, "Was it fun for you?"

Draco didn't answer for a while, and Blaise thought he wasn't going to. He was almost going to leave, when Draco suddenly spoke.

"No," he said quietly, "It wasn't fun for me. I didn't do it because it amused me; I did it because I had no other choice. What other way would I get her to look at me and pay attention to me, without having everyone think I'd gone soft for a mudblood?"

Blaise sighed. "Well it just made her think you hate her."

"I did, or I do. I don't know anymore. I hated her more than I've hated anyone." He frowned. "At first, that is. I spent so long torturing her that I barely even noticed the moment it changed to something else. I think I was in denial. I was pissed at myself for feeling like that, pissed at her for making me feel like that, and pissed at everyone else for the fact that I couldn't just go over and talk to her like she was just another witch."

Draco closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you see how I'm losing it? Fucking hell."

Blaise watched him curiously for a moment, before shrugging. "I don't think you're losing it. It was bound to happen, right? You hated her so strongly, what's to stop you from loving her just as much?"

Draco whipped his head up to give Blaise a warning look. "I never said I felt _that_ strongly."

Blaise smirked, before patting him on the back good-naturedly. "There's a fine line between love and hate, mate."

Draco stared at him like he was insane. "I regret ever telling you anything."

Blaise laughed, as Draco scowled at him. "Stop laughing at my misfortune, you dipshit." He warned, lightly.

"I'm just saying," Blaise said, turning serious again, "you can't blame yourself for this. I can only imagine how much you tortured yourself over it. Funny isn't it? The one person you can't have is the one that drives you insane with longing."

Draco didn't look quite so amused on the matter. "If I had my way, I would go for Ginny. Or Merlin forbid, _Pansy_." He ground out, making a face of disgust. "If only to make my life easier."

Blaise raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? I'm actually surprised Ginny wasn't enough to make you forget Granger."

Draco shrugged. "She's fit, yeah. Great kisser, and popular, but she just wasn't my type. Plus you were interested." He added, before shrugging casually.

"Not anymore," Blaise assured him. The other boy smirked, knowing the story of that day in the library. He'd predicted Ginny's actions perfectly. "So you're saying Granger's your type?"

Draco's cheeks tinged a little, and he shrugged again, shoving his hands in his pocket. "I guess."

Blaise stared at him incredulously. "You're into the nerdy type?"

Draco gave him a look like he didn't understand what the big deal was. "Maybe I am, so what?"

"I just didn't expect that. I've never really seen you with that type; it's always been, you know, the type that's more into hair and makeup."

Draco shrugged. "Why do you think I barely date? All the girls here are idiots. I may not be the biggest genius, but I can appreciate a girl with brains."

Blaise nodded, before smirking mischievously. "Do you think Grangers fit?"

Draco looked surprised by the question and hesitated slightly. "Uh...yeah. I do."

Blaise chuckled, earning himself a death stare from his friend.

"Sod off, you wanker." Draco said, looking slightly embarrassed. "At least I don't go for Loony Lovegood."

This wiped the smirk off Blaise's face immediately, and Draco grinned. "So you _do_ like Loony?"

"No. I mean, I do, but not in that way." Blaise insisted, defensively.

Draco nodded slowly, looking as though he didn't believe a word his friend was saying. "If you say so, Zabini."

Blaise scowled. "Let's just go to bed, it's like one in the morning and we've been standing out here like idiots for half an hour."

He pushed past a chuckling Draco, and entered the portrait hole, trying to ignore the heat that was currently rising across his face.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Hermione awoke in the hospital wing feeling groggy and sore. She looked around the empty wing. The early morning sunlight was shining through a window at the opposite end off the room, Hermione turned away from the blinding light and sighed. The action causing her stomach to ache slightly. She winced.<p>

The last thing she remembered from last night was a spell Potter sent her direction, after that, things were extremely fuzzy. All she knew was whatever had happened seriously hurt. She gingerly lifted her shirt to inspect the place where her stomach hurt. She couldn't see anything except for a wide length of bandage wrapped from just below her belly button, to where they disappeared under her shirt.

She relaxed back in her bed. That must have been a nasty hex if she ended up here, and was still here the next day. She looked at the clock, it was only 6am. She decided to go back to sleep, since Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be up yet anyway. She settled into the soft pillow and closed her eyes once more.

An hour later, Hermione was roused again by the sound of clattering and heels clopping on the floor. She opened her eyes tiredly and sat up, seeing Madam Pomfrey stacking vials of Potions onto a shelf nearby. Hermione cleared her throat to talk, so she could get the nurses attention, but the sound was enough for the nurse to stop what she was doing and look over at her bed.

"Oh, good morning dear," she greeted, much too brightly for Hermione's liking. "How are you feeling today?"

She placed the vial in her hand on the shelf, before picking another one up and bustling over to the girl.

"I'm fine. A little sore," she said, with a small shrug. The nurse uncorked the vial, and shoved it in her face.

"Here," she said, "drink this. It'll help with the pain. I already gave you one last night, but it wears off after a few hours."

Hermione tipped her head back and downed the vial, immediately she felt the pain in her stomach tingle and become numb. She handed the empty vial back to the nurse.

"Um, Madam Pomfrey," she said, hesitantly, "what exactly was the hex that was used on me?"

The nurse eyed her for a moment. "Well dear, I can't tell you the exact spell for safety reasons, but I will tell you it was very dark and dangerous. Your stomach and chest were completely sliced when I found you; you'd lost a dangerous amount of blood. No healing spell I was using stopped the bleeding or closed the wounds; for a while there I thought you wouldn't make it."

Hermione swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "How come I did make it?"

"Well, after about ten minutes of bandaging the wound, and administering the most blood replenishing potions I have on one patient, which were useless by the way since you just kept on bleeding, Professor Snape came in to deliver my monthly batch of healing potions. It really was a stroke of luck. He saw the wounds, and how they wouldn't heal. He seemed to recognise the spell because he used a healing spell I've never heard before and then all the blood seemed to run back into your body. There was still a lot left over though, due to the replenishing potions, so I had a big clean up, but at least you're healthy now, dear."

"So Professor Snape knew the spell?" The nurse nodded. "Did he know who used it?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded again. "Yes, he seemed to know who did this, though he wouldn't tell me." She looked a little put out at this.

"It was Weasley and Potter," Hermione informed her. "They did it. Do you know if they've been punished, or even questioned about it?" She asked, feeling the anger swell inside her. Knowing Snape, he'd let them off with barely a slap on the wrist.

The nurse looked horrified. "My goodness. Where did those boys learn such a spell? I certainly do hope they are punished for that. We do not need them running around using that on anymore students."

Hermione nodded in agreement, but she couldn't help but feel like no one understood just how bad this was for her. How unfair it all seemed. The nurse left Hermione to go and collect her some breakfast, and when she returned Hermione was presented with a large plate of pancakes, eggs and pumpkin juice on the side.

When she questioned the nurse about whether she would be allowed out today, Madam Pomfrey looked extremely aghast, before replying, "Goodness no, child. You're far too ill."

Hermione grumbled before attacking her plate of food.

She spent the morning practically dying of boredom, and by the time lunch-time came, she was practically gnawing off her own arm just to create some action in her life.

She was more than relieved when the hospital doors swung open, revealing the concerned face of Neville carrying multiple items in his arms. Hermione was sure she'd never been so relieved to see one person in her whole life.

When he saw her grinning at him, he seemed to relax a bit, as he made his way over to her bed.

"Oh thank Merlin," she exclaimed, slightly hysterical, "I was about to go insane with boredom."

"I'm glad you're well enough to go insane," he said, smiling. "Professor McGonagall told me what happened this morning. I wanted to come and see you straight away, but I had Transfiguration first and unfortunately she said if I didn't show up she'd come find me." Hermione snickered at his fearful expression.

"So I waited til lunch to get you some things," he said, more brightly, "I got you some books from the library." He sat a few tomes at the end of the bed. "I also went to the kitchens and asked the houselves to make you a treat. They're chocolate truffles," he explained, handing her a box.

She smiled brightly. "Nev, I'm not sure what I'd do without you, but I'm certain I wouldn't have an arm right now."

He gave her an odd look, but didn't question her further; instead he turned to more serious topics. "Was it them, Hermione?"

She didn't need to ask to know what or who he was talking about. She nodded. "Yeah, it was them."

Neville shook his head in anger. "You have to tell someone, Hermione. They've gone too far this time."

"Professor Snape already knows," she said, though her tone showed that she didn't expect much from that, "apparently they've been punished."

Neville gave her an odd look again. "No they haven't, Hermione. They were all at breakfast this morning, and lunch just now. If they've been punished, they don't seem to be too worried about it."

Hermione looked straight ahead in disappointment, as she sunk down in to her blankets. "That's the way things work I guess." She said, defeated.

"What do you mean?" Neville asked, looking at her with concern.

"People like them get it easy. They seem to get away with everything; you and I, on the other hand. We'll always be walked on by people like them."

She couldn't help but feel that way. Her life had only confirmed it. She wondered whether Malfoy was satisfied with what his friends had done. Maybe he'd asked them to do it? Maybe they'd laughed about it afterwards. All she knew was that she hated those boys more than anything in the world.

* * *

><p>Down at the Slytherin table, Blaise finished his lunch and stood, preparing to leave.<p>

"Where're you going?" Draco questioned looking up at him, fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

Blaise glanced to the side to see if Potter and Weasley were listening; they were engaged in conversation with Pansy and another girl. He turned back to Draco. "I'm going to the hospital wing."

Draco perked up slightly. "Really? Why?"

Blaise shrugged. "I wanna see if she's ok."

"Oh. Right." Draco said, sitting his fork down, and looking slightly awkward.

Blaise gave him a knowing look. "Would you like to tag along?"

"Nah. It's alright." Draco said, though he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to jump from his seat. "I mean, it'd only be out of curiosity anyway, to see how much she hates me now."

Blaise resisted the urge to smirk. "If you say so, mate, but I'm off."

He left the table, and began to stride toward the doors. Almost as if on cue, he heard footsteps at his side.

"On second thought, why not? Better than sitting there listening to Potter and Weasley, the gits." Draco said, shrugging. Blaise rolled his eyes.

They'd just exited the great hall when they heard someone call from behind them. "Blaise!" A tinkling voice called.

Both boys turned and Blaise heard Draco groan at the owner of the voice.

Luna was skipping over to them, a small smile on her face. "What are you doing leaving so early?" She questioned brightly.

Blaise glanced at Draco, who was looking away like he'd rather be anywhere but in the presence of 'Loony Lovegood'. Blaise looked back at her dreamy face and smiled.

"Well we were just off to see Hermione actually," he told the girl, who was fiddling with what looked to be a radish earring, though Blaise couldn't be sure. Why would anyone wear radish earrings?

"Oh yes, she's in the hospital wing, right?" She said, suddenly frowning, "I hope she's alright."

"Me too," said Blaise, before furrowing his brow. "How did you know that?"

"Oh, your friends were telling one of my dorm mates this morning. I was walking behind and over heard. Seems the whole school knows now; they seem to be bragging over it. Personally, I don't think it's something to brag about."

Blaise looked to Draco, who was now listening intently, a look of barely contained anger on his face. The blond met his eye, and a silent message was communicated. Potter and Weasley were dead men.

Luna, who was completely oblivious to the interaction, spoke up brightly. "So shall we go? I'm sure she'll be pleased to have some company."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her perky disposition, and Blaise shot him a warning look. "Sure, let's go."

The three walked along the corridor and up the staircase. Blaise was certain Draco was regretting his decision to come now. He seemed to be looking around every corner, ensuring they weren't seen with the crazy girl.

"So I searched the mistletoe you gave me for Nargles," began Luna conversationally, "but I didn't find any. I think because it wasn't quite fresh, they probably escaped." She frowned.

Blaise glanced sideways at Draco to find him looking back at him half amused, half disbelieving. Blaise scowled at him, before turning away. "I'm sorry to hear that, Luna."

"Oh its quite alright. I suppose I'll just have to look for more." She said, before peeking around at Draco. "I'm quite surprised you're visiting Hermione. I would've thought you'd be happy that she's in the hospital."

Blaise saw Draco's jaw set, and interrupted before he could verbally admonish the girl. "He didn't have a part in this," Blaise assured her. Draco looked away, narrow eyed.

"But he really did, didn't he? I mean, he's the leader of your group. He calls the shots. At least that's what I've read about gangs." She explained.

Blaise looked slightly affronted that she thought Draco controlled him, and a little amused that she thought they were a gang. "We don't have a leader," he said, "We just do what we like. Potter and Weasley did what they felt like doing. Draco's not as much of a wanker now, I assure you."

He glanced at Draco and saw him looking away miserably; he clearly still believed it was his fault that all this happened to Hermione.

Luna shrugged. "I suppose everyone deserves a second chance," she said thoughtfully, before turning to Draco and smiling, "Therefore, I forgive you for that time you threw a bottle of ink on me in the corridor in my third year."

Blaise looked at Draco incredulously. He was inspecting Luna with narrowed eyes, head cocked to the side, "That was you?"

Blaise scoffed and shook his head in disbelief at his friend. He hadn't been there when that'd happened, but it certainly sounded like something Draco would do.

Luna nodded brightly. "Yes. It took me three hours to wash it out of my hair." She said, looking away dreamily as though she were remembering the incident, "But it's ok, if you really have changed."

"Well...thanks." he said, awkwardly. Obviously uncertain about whether forgiveness from Luna was a good thing. "You should feel privileged though, that was an expensive bottle of ink."

Blaise gave him a withering look, but Draco merely shrugged. Luna laughed, the sound pleasing Blaise's ears, she clearly saw the humour in the situation. Blaise was glad she knew how to handle Draco's humour, not many did.

They stopped as they reached the doors of the hospital wing. "Well here we are." Blaise said, looking at the two. Luna looked at him, smiling brightly; Draco looked like he might throw up any second. Blaise shot him a concerned look, to which Draco shook his head, assuring him that he was fine.

Blaise turned and pushed the door to the hospital wing open, before slipping through. Luna and Draco followed closely behind.

* * *

><p>In the hospital wing, Hermione was sitting up in bed sharing her chocolate truffles between her and Neville. They were currently laughing about an awkward moment between Professor Sprout and his Devil's snare plant, when they heard the hospital doors open.<p>

Hermione and Neville both looked up, equally surprised to find Blaise and Luna walking toward her bed. Hermione smiled, that is until she saw the third person trailing behind. She narrowed her eyes at Blaise as they stopped at the end of her bed.

"What's _he_ doing here?" She asked rudely. Next to her, Neville was sending the blond boy similar death stares.

Blaise hesitated, "Uh-well-,"

"He came to see if you're alright," Luna interjected brightly. "He's changed."

Hermione gave her an amused look. "I'm sure," she said with dry sarcasm, "more like he's come to see how much damage his friends managed to inflict. Am I right?" She asked, looking pointedly at him.

"For once in your life you're not, Granger," he said, staring pointedly at her. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"So you're telling me you had nothing at all to do with this?" She asked, motioning to her damaged torso.

His eyes followed her hand, before they met hers again. "That's right. I was just as shocked to hear about it as Blaise here was."

Hermione laughed mirthlessly. "I'm sure you were just all cut up about it," she said sarcastically in an overly sweet voice.

He shared a glance with Blaise, who was eyeing the interaction nervously, and shrugged, before stepping back slightly, seeming to give up on the argument. Hermione bristled slightly at this before turning to Blaise.

"So did you ever figure out who was under the Polyjuice?" she asked, pointedly and rather demandingly. She was far too moody to be polite.

Blaise was slightly taken aback by her tone, but felt Draco tense next to him. He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, I'm pretty certain it was Potter or Weasley. I'm not a hundred percent sure which one though."

He saw Draco send him a grateful look out of the corner of his eye.

Hermione huffed in annoyance, looking slightly worried. "They better not tell anyone what I told them," she said, glancing quickly at Draco before looking away, "otherwise I _will_ hex them."

"No, no," Blaise began desperately, shaking his head, "you don't want to do that. As part of their punishment they've agreed not to harass you anymore. I think you should just leave it, why stir it anymore?"

"Oh, I see," said Hermione, sardonically, "they've decided to finally leave me alone so I should thank them for it? Right? I should thank Malfoy here for not hexing me for once in my life? Don't be ridiculous Blaise."

Blaise looked at Draco, who was looking as though he wanted nothing more to escape Hermione's firing line. "I just thought you might be happy that they aren't going to bug you anymore," Blaise said, weakly.

Hermione raised her brow, and shared a look with Neville. "_Bug_? That's a light way of putting it." She commented, "I'd be happier if they were punished for nearly killing me, to be honest."

Blaise looked slightly ashamed despite the fact that he wasn't exactly at fault. "They got points taken and detention..." he muttered, knowing it was hardly consolation for what Hermione had been through.

"Wow," she said harshly, "I'm sure that'll teach them a lesson right? I'm sure you all had a good laugh about it, right?" She said, directing her question at Draco.

"Actually no," Draco said, his voice so calm it irked Hermione.

"Draco had nothing to do with it," Blaise insisted, "He wouldn't do that."

Hermione gave him a look that was almost pitying. "You really don't understand, do you Blaise? He has done that before, many times. You just don't understand because you've never been on the receiving end. I wouldn't expect you too, really. In the end, you're their friend, not mine. I don't expect you to take my side on the matter."

"Hermione," he stated, gripping the railing at the end of the bed, "I'm not taking sides on this. I'm just telling the truth. He had nothing to do with it. And I am your friend." He added quietly.

Hermione looked at him sadly, before her eyes flicked to Draco. He was looking at her plainly, no hint of hatred or smugness in his expression. It didn't matter though. He'd proved his feelings on the matter, and right now Hermione had been pushed too far to care whether he really had changed or not. She needed to distance herself from these boys, and if Blaise didn't see the wrong in Draco's ways, then that included him too.

"You should go," she said, her eyes flicking back to Blaise. He looked slightly hurt for a moment, before nodding. He shared a look with Draco, before they both strode out of the hospital wing.

"Well that went well," Draco muttered sarcastically. Blaise scoffed at the complete lack of truth in the statement, before they both made their way down the stair case.

* * *

><p>In the Hospital wing, Hermione, Luna and Neville sat on her bed.<p>

"I'm sorry you had to witness that, Luna," Hermione said, apologetically.

The Ravenclaw smiled, "Oh it's quite alright. I do think perhaps you should give him a second chance, though."

"Who?" Neville asked.

Luna thought for a moment, before speaking, "Maybe both of them."

Both Hermione and Neville shared a look before she scoffed. "It would be more like a 100th chance with Malfoy," she said, "and besides, what does it matter if I forgive him or not? All I am to him is a mudblood."

"Don't say that," Neville said quickly, looking as though she'd just said a dirty word.

She shrugged. "It's true."

Luna looked off dreamily for a moment. "I don't think it is. He doesn't look at you like he hates you. I've seen people look at me like that numerous times, and the way he looks at you is just...not like that."

Hermione was silent for a moment, not sure what to say back when the bell rang signalling the end of lunch. She was relieved to have escaped the conversation, considering it was headed in a direction she did not feel comfortable with. As Luna and Neville left her to go to their next class, she leaned back on her pillow, wondering in just _what_ way Malfoy looked at her.

* * *

><p>"We really need to teach those wankers a lesson," whispered Draco as they walked to Transfiguration. They were a few steps behind Weasley and Potter, and Draco had been glaring at their backs the whole time.<p>

Blaise sighed. "What exactly do you have in mind? I don't particularly feel like getting expelled."

Draco shook his head. "No, nothing like that. But it needs to be embarrassing, that way people will stop talking about Granger, and they'll learn not to mess with her."

Blaise rolled his eyes. Couldn't he just let things go? "Can't you just punch them in the face and be done with it?"

Draco thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "No. That's far too much Gryffindor hot-headedness for me. It needs to be something sneaky, something that'll make them wish they thought twice about using that hex."

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "You punched me in the face!" He accused, remembering just how much his nose had hurt the morning after. Why had he deserved that if Potter and Weasley didnt?

Draco snickered at the memory. "Yes, well I was far too drunk to use a wand or think of any complicated plan then. And besides, my hand hurt for two days after that. I don't wanna do that again."

"What about my nose?" Blaise asked, incredulously.

Draco inspected his nose. "No lasting damage. It was always a bit crooked anyway; I think I might've straightened it up a bit."

Draco continued walking, leaving Blaise staring in disbelief after him as he felt his nose. It was never crooked, he was sure of it. He caught up to Draco.

"So what exactly will this diabolical plan involve?" Blaise asked unenthusiastically, once he was in step with his friend again.

Draco looked thoughtful, as they passed a group of four Ravenclaw girls that were gossiping away. Their ears pricked as they heard the conversation.

"Harry told me this morning that they used some forbidden hex on her," on girl said, excitedly.

"Forbidden? Wow, I'd be too scared of going to Azkaban." Another said in awe.

Blaise and Draco shared a look, before Draco smirked and backtracked to where the girls were conversing. Blaise watched as they stared at Draco with awe and barely concealed excitement. He sent them all a charming smile that had them blushing.

Blaise rolled his eyes. The girls looked like they might faint as it was very unusual for Draco to approach any girl; in fact, many girls had given up hope of getting with him because he was so very selective with who he spent his time with. Draco leaned in, and the girls followed suit. He whispered something that had their eyes popping out of their head with excitement, and their heads nodding so fast Blaise was surprised they didn't get whip lash.

After a minute, Blaise heard Draco say loudly, "See you ladies then."

He walked back over to where Blaise stood. "I think I just figured out the plan." He said, with a crooked smile.

Blaise gave him an uncertain look. "And I'm guessing it involves those girls?"

Draco grinned but didn't answer. "What's the one thing in the world Weasley and Potter love more than anything else?"

Blaise thought for a moment. "Uh, girls? Sex?"

Draco nodded. "Exactly. And we're going to take that away from them."

Blaise looked at his friend nervously. "This doesn't involve decapitation of any body parts does it?"

Draco gave him a disgusted look. "Merlin, Zabini. What do you take me for?"

Blaise didn't answer, but knew that when someone got on the wrong side of Draco, it was bound to be the worst mistake they ever made.

They entered the Transfiguration and sat in the desk behind Weasley and Potter.

"Oi," Draco hissed at them, trying to get their attention. Both boys turned in their seats at the sound to face the two behind them.

"What's up?" Weasley asked.

"I just spoke to some lovely Ravenclaw ladies; they agreed to meet us up in the Astronomy tower tonight." Draco said, grinning slyly.

Both Potter and Weasley returned similar grins. "Nice, mate. We'll be there for sure."

They turned back around as Professor McGonagall entered the classroom. Draco sent Blaise a mischievous grin. Blaise couldn't help but feel sorry for Potter and Weasley in that moment, they had no idea what was coming, and neither did Blaise for that matter.

* * *

><p>That night at dinner, Blaise and Draco sat with Potter and Weasley at the Slytherin table. Draco kept shooting the boys satisfied smirks, but they didn't notice.<p>

Blaise had tried questioning Draco on his plan all day, but the teen had refused to tell him anything, he'd only assured him that he wasn't a target. It only made Blaise feel slightly better.

"So when are we meeting those girls?" Weasley asked, in between mouthfuls of chicken. Blaise gave him a disgusted look.

"Very soon, mate," Draco said, vaguely. "I was thinking Blaise and I would meet you up there? I've got a bit of Ogden's in my trunk, so I was thinking I could give the girls a few sips on the way up and that'd take out the hard work for us, right?"

Blaise looked at Draco incredulously, while Potter and Weasley shared identical sly grins. "Sounds perfect, mate." Potter said, clearly anticipating the evening.

Twenty minutes later, Blaise and Draco were standing outside the Great hall waiting for the four Ravenclaw girls.

"So you aren't going to get them drunk?" Blaise asked, hopefully.

Draco shook his head. "No, I need them sober for this. I don't want them to think there's any chance they hallucinated." He grinned, clearly thinking of the sight they would see.

The girls walked out of the Great hall, looking done up and excited to have been picked by the Silver Marauders.

"Hello ladies," Draco drawled, smoothly. They each greeted him hello.

"Hi Blaise," one particular girl greeted him shyly. He smiled politely at her, despite the fact that he was rather uncomfortable being in the presence of so many Ravenclaw girls. He only really trusted Luna and Mandy. He suddenly wondered where Luna was, and began looking around for a flash of long blonde hair.

"Let's go, shall we?" Draco suggested, breaking Blaise from his thoughts. The girls nodded enthusiastically. Blaise groaned inwardly as the girl who'd greeted him before latched onto his arm.

They all walked up the staircases together. Blaise was relatively silent, answering a few questions the girl on his arm sent him with 'yes' or 'no' answers. Draco, on the other hand, was in his element; he was charming three girls at once and had them all giggling and practically bowing at his feet.

As they got to the Astronomy tower entrance, Draco sent Blaise a smirk. "After you, ladies." He insisted, and they all walked in ahead.

Blaise looked at Draco curiously, as he leaned against the wall, and began counting down. "Three, two, one..."

He grinned suddenly as he heard one of the girls exclaim, "Oh my god!"

Blaise gave him a wary look, but was interrupted when the girls ran out wide and shocked. "I'm sorry," one girl said as she scurried past, "but we've got to go tell people about this. It's just too good to wait."

Blaise stared in confusion, as Draco shrugged and gave her a look that said 'if you must'.

"What did you do?" Blaise asked, fearing the worst.

"See for yourself, mate." Draco said, grinning, and holding his arm out toward the door in a welcoming manner.

Blaise hesitated before walking forward. He wasn't sure he wanted to see this, and he was right. As soon as he stepped foot on the astronomy tower, he turned away from the sight immediately. "Bloody hell." He muttered, disgustedly.

In front of him were Potter and Weasley, though they did not look like they were waiting for any girls at all. Potter was crouched down on his knees, looking at Blaise dazedly. Weasley was standing against the wall in front of Potter, pants down, hand in his underwear. It didn't look good. Blaise knew this would scar him for life.

Draco walked and stood next to Blaise, chuckling. Blaise gave him a withering look. "How did you make them do this?" He asked, not sure if he even wanted to know.

"Do what?" Draco asked innocently. "Potter convinced he's lost his glasses on the ground, and Weasley merely thinks there's a baby Blast-ended Screwt in his underwear."

Blaise furrowed his brow, before turning back to the two boys. On closer inspection, Potter was searching for something on the ground, despite the fact his glasses were on his nose. He only seemed to look up at them every now and then, with a dazed expression.

Weasley had his pants down and his hand shoved in his boxers, he did not look happy about it at all, in fact he looked like he were about to have a panic attack, no doubt believing that he'd lose his bollocks to a baby Blast-ended Screwt.

Blaise raised his brow, slightly impressed. "How?"

Draco smirked. "Confundus charm."

Blaise nodded. "And why those girls?"

"They happen to be the biggest gossips in the school. This little incident will be all over the school by morning."

"Well you certainly planned this out well," Blaise commented, not sure if he should be impressed or annoyed.

Draco shrugged. "They certainly won't be getting girls for a while. I think that's punishment enough."

Blaise nodded. "You gonna end the spell?" He asked, not sure how much longer he could stand seeing Weasley with his hand in his pants.

Draco sighed, almost like Blaise was ruining his fun. "Very well."

He flicked his wand, and said, "Finite."

Immediately, Potter and Weasley's dazed expressions faded. They looked around, before noticing one another, or more specifically the positions they were in before jumping back away from the other.

"What the hell!" Cried Weasley, tripping over his pants.

"Why have you got no pants on?" Accused Potter, wide-eyed.

Both boys were yelling frantically at one another, wondering how in Merlins name they ended up like that. Eventually, they noticed Blaise and Draco standing there, and looked embarrassed and awkward.

"Did you...see anything?" Potter asked, nervously.

Draco made a face of mock confusion. "See what?"

"Nothing," both Potter and Weasley said at the same time. They shuffled awkwardly for a moment, before racing past the two boys, still hissing accusations at the other as they went.

Draco chuckled. Blaise couldn't really see the amusement in it. "You don't think you went too far?"

Draco looked at him incredulously. "Too far? They nearly killed Granger! I'd say it's the perfect pay back."

Blaise nodded. "Let's just hope they don't find out it was you."

Draco scoffed. "I'm not worried about them."

Blaise thought for a moment. "How did you know it was going to work out like that?"

Draco shrugged. "Everything I do succeeds. Everything I want I get." He said simply.

Blaise gave him a withering look. "Granger?"

Draco shrugged again, but his eyes twinkled. "I haven't decided what I'll do with all that yet, but once I do, you can guarantee it will work."

Blaise rolled his eyes at his friends' cockiness, but grinned. They both made their way out of the Astronomy tower to their dorm, where Potter and Weasley were pointedly ignoring each other.

"Something wrong?" Draco questioned them, amusedly.

"No," both said at the same time, before glaring at each other.

Draco shot Blaise a covert smirk, before slipping into bed. Blaise couldn't help but wonder if Draco really did get everything he wanted. At the moment it seemed like he did, but a part of him hoped that Hermione would be the one exception, and that Draco might grow up a little in order to get her.

It wasn't that Blaise didn't enjoy Draco; it's just that he could only see him digging himself a hole that he may not be able to get out of with charm and cockiness, alone. He hoped Hermione would hold her own and teach him a few lessons, and not just give into him if he asked for her. He really, really hoped that.

**A/N:**

**So I wrote this chapter quicker then I thought I would. I figured I may as well upload it now, too.**

**I'd just like to point out that just because Draco admitted he liked Hermione, does not mean he's going to be openly showing his feelings for her in front of anyone other then Blaise. I want this story to go at a natural pace, and at the moment I'm planning on it being long. I also dont see Draco openly showing his emotions easily, which is exactly why his reaction to Hermione's hexing was more subtle. He's a Slytherin, he does things the sneaky way, which is just how his payback was. I dont think He will ever be shouting from the rooftops how much he likes Hermione, I really just dont see that being him. I hope no one minds this too much, but the last thing I want is to change Draco's personality completely. I've seen this in many fics where one minute he's a complete wanker and the next he's serenading her all romantically. I just really dont see that happening realistically. He is Draco the git, and he will always be Draco the git, but even gits can show their affection. I suppose I see Draco showing his affection in the wrong ways (hexing people for revenge, etc), nothing too sweet. Perhaps it might develop in the future, but for this early on in the story, I wont be getting too lovey-dovey. I'm sorry if that disappoints people. Dont worry, there will be much more Dramione to come, so fear not **

**Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think.**

**Cheers!**

**Leni**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8_**

_...in which Draco has doubts._

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke to the light shining on her face; she groaned and rolled over on her other side. She had been in the hospital wing for two days, and she was thoroughly sick of waking up with the bright sunlight blinding her every morning.<p>

She had insisted she was alright, but Madam Pomfrey had not allowed her to leave, forcing her to stay a couple of days until she was in better health. Hermione felt fine, however, and was more concerned about how much school work she was missing out on, this didn't seem to matter to the nurse though, who was even more stubborn than Hermione.

The patient rolled over on her small hospital bed, and glanced at the clock. It was already 7am, and she could hear Madam Pomfrey in her office shuffling about. Hermione threw the sheets off, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, determined to show the nurse that she was well enough to escape this boring place, though she probably wouldn't word it like that to her.

Madam Pomfrey bustled out of her office, with a stack of folded clothes in her grip. Hermione sighed with relief as she recognised them as her own Gryffindor robes. The nurse came to her side, and sat the stack down beside her.

"Now I know you're desperate to be discharged, but staying was for your own good," the nurse insisted, almost sounding offended that no one seemed to enjoy their stay in the Hospital Wing.

"I know," Hermione agreed enthusiastically, "I feel much better. Thank you."

The nurse sniffed haughtily. "Well, you're free to go then. I cleaned and repaired your robes for you. I'll leave you to get dressed."

With that, she pulled the curtain around Hermione's bed and left her in private to get dressed.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was ready and excited to get out of the Hospital wing and get to classes. The nurse bid her farewell and Hermione practically skipped up the staircase to the Gryffindor common room to wait for Neville.

When she entered the common room, she noticed it was practically empty, except for a few students who looked to be finishing off some last minute homework. Hermione searched the room; despite the fact she knew Neville would not be awake yet.

She was surprised however, when she met a pair of eyes that were fixed on her.

Ginny Weasley was seated in an arm chair near the fire, with a text book and parchment on her lap, looking at Hermione with unbridled interest. Hermione gave her an awkward smile, which the red-head returned, before strolling over and sitting on one of the other couches.

She picked up an abandoned Transfiguration text book off the coffee table and began to peruse it, when she felt the seat next to her dip. She looked up to see that Ginny had moved into the spot next to her.

Hermione wasn't sure why the girl had moved there, but looked over awkwardly to see that Ginny was looking back at her curiously, with her head cocked to the side. It was making Hermione increasingly uncomfortable, and she resisted the urge to shift awkwardly in her seat, instead continuing to read the book that was open in her hands, though she could barely concentrate.

After a moment, she heard Ginny sigh. "You're very pretty, do you know that?"

Hermione's eyes popped out of her head, as she turned to the red-head girl, who seemed to be casually perusing her features. Hermione didn't agree at all, but in an attempt to end the conversation and all present awkwardness, she merely said, "Oh, no, but thank you," before turning back to her book, hoping Ginny would leave it at that. She wasn't in luck, however.

"So how are you feeling?" Ginny asked, leaning back in her seat. This was not a good sign to Hermione, as it meant she was planning on hanging about.

Hermione flicked absently through her book. "I'm fine, now."

She saw Ginny nod out of the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry about my brother," she began, sounding thoroughly tired, "I've always known he was a wanker, but I didn't think it'd go this far. If it makes you feel any better, I wrote to our mum yesterday. Her Howler for Ron should be arriving in this morning's post."

Hermione glanced sideways at the girl, and noticed she had an amused smirk on her face. Hermione tried not to smile, though the thought of Weasley getting a verbal lashing from his mother in front of the entire school was certainly satisfying.

"I'll be sure not to miss it," Hermione assured her. She then remembered that everyone would probably be too focused on her to even notice Weasley; she slouched considerably. Ginny seemed to understand her fears.

"Don't worry," she assured Hermione, "everyone's too busy talking about the so called 'coming out' of my brother and Potter. They haven't mentioned you at all lately."

Hermione gave Ginny a quizzical look. "Coming out?" She asked.

Ginny waved her hand in the air, dismissing the term. "Everyone seems to think my brother and Potter were caught in a compromising position in the Astronomy tower. They seem to now believe they're gay."

Hermione's eyes were wide with shock. "_Gay_? I can't really see Potter being gay." Hermione muttered, thinking of all the times Potter had put the hard word on her. She shuddered at the memories.

"Oh, me neither," Ginny agreed, playing with her quill. "But that doesn't stop the rumours. Personally, whenever anyone asks, I've been telling them that Ron always played with my Wendy Witch dolls when we were younger, and that I'm not exactly surprised with the turn of events. Needless to say, he wasn't happy when he found out about that." She grinned at the memory.

Hermione looked at the girl with surprise and awe. She never would have thought Ginny would be so sneaky. Or that she wouldn't be like her brother. Hermione had to remind herself that Ginny was a Gryffindor, and her brother was a Slytherin, and there was a reason for it.

Still, she had never imagined Ginny Weasley to be so..._great_. Why hadn't Malfoy wanted to date this girl? She then remembered Malfoy was a git, and decided he wasn't intelligent enough to make a correct decision.

"Wow," Hermione said, with slight awe. "I can't even believe you're related to that git."

Ginny chuckled. "Yes, well, the idiot gene of the family had to come out somewhere. Poor Ron." She said, though she looked far from pitiful. Hermione chuckled.

"Anyway," Ginny said, suddenly, "Don't worry about my brother. If he's horrible to you still, I have plenty of dirt on him. Like the fact that he still sleeps with his stuffed Babbity Rabbity doll when he's home."

Hermione snickered. "Thanks, that might come in handy."

"No problem." Ginny said, stuffing her homework in to the bag at her feet. "So...how come Draco didn't get in trouble for hexing you?"

Hermione inwardly groaned at the mention of the boys' name. "Apparently he wasn't part of it." She admitted, "Though I'm not sure I believe that." She sat the text book in her hand back down on the coffee table.

Ginny nodded slowly, looking extremely interested. "Did he tell you that?"

Hermione shrugged. "Sort of. He and Blaise came to the Hospital wing to try and convince me of it."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Really? Draco visited you? That's certainly something."

Hermione looked at Ginny out of the corner of her eye. She looked suddenly tense. Hermione wished she'd never brought up the Hospital wing incident.

"I'm sure he only came to see how much damage his friends managed to inflict." Hermione insisted.

Ginny nodded, though she didn't look convinced. "Yes, probably. He's a bit of an ass. I'm sure you've heard about our history. It's half the reason I'm not keen to help Ron now. I told him about how Draco used me, and he said it's what I get for, and I quote, 'whoring about'."

Ginny scowled at the thought of her brother. Hermione's eyebrows were at her hairline. At that moment she was completely shocked. Even though it was Weasley, she thought he'd at least be protective of his younger sister.

"I'm sorry. I know where you're coming from though. I know firsthand how those boys can be." Said Hermione, thinking back on all the times they'd taunted her.

Ginny nodded. "I know. Just...be careful with them." She warned darkly. "With Draco. Sometimes it's better to have him hate you." She said, knowingly.

Hermione gave her a curious look, wondering just what the younger girl was getting at. She didn't have time to question her, however, because Neville had appeared in the common room at that moment, and was very happy to see Hermione.

In fact, Hermione had been so distracted by conversation; she hadn't seen that everyone was awake and heading down to breakfast.

"Hermione!" Neville exclaimed happily, coming stop next to her and Ginny. "You're back! Thank Merlin, I've been so bored." He huffed.

Hermione grinned at her friend. "It's good to be back, Nev. Say...you wouldn't happen to know what happened to my book bag, would you? I must have left it in the corridor when I was hexed."

Neville nodded. "Professor Snape brought it back. I kept it in my room. I'll just go grab it. I wasn't expecting you out for days." He said as he turned, and raced back up stairs to the boys' dorms.

"I managed to escape!" Hermione called after him grinning. Oh, how she'd missed him being stuck in the Hospital wing.

"Mind if I walk down to breakfast with you?" Ginny asked, happily, eyeing the interaction between Hermione and Neville with amusement.

Hermione was surprised, but agreed anyway with a smile. "Oh, sure."

A couple of minutes later Neville returned with Hermione's book bag, and together, he, Hermione and Ginny walked out of the portrait hole.

If Neville was curious as to why Ginny was walking with them he didn't ask. Hermione, for one, had only really spoken to the girl for a total of five minutes and already she liked her.

Ginny was the type of girl Hermione looked up to, despite the fact that the red head was younger than her. Ginny was confident and feisty, she didn't let people walk all over her. Hermione felt like she should take a leaf from the girls' book, and take on some of those traits herself.

* * *

><p>In the Great hall, Blaise sat across from Draco while eating his breakfast, much to the annoyance of the former. Draco had not stopped tapping his foot and glancing toward the door the whole time they'd been sitting there. In fact, the last two days had been hell for Blaise, because Draco seemed to be going through some sort of withdrawal from not having interacted with Hermione.<p>

Blaise tried to ignore the tapping of his friend's foot, but finally he couldn't take it anymore. He aimed a good kick to Draco's shin and was secretly pleased when his friend hissed in pain and turned to glare across the table at him. Blaise didn't care, as long as it got him to stop staring at the door.

"What the hell was that for?" Draco hissed angrily, rubbing his shin under the table.

Blaise bit into his toast. "Stop being a pathetic idiot." He said in-between chews.

Draco scowled at the insult. "What are you talking about?"

Blaise rolled his eyes and sighed tiredly. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've been shooting glances at that door for the past twenty minutes. You look pathetic."

At Draco's death stare, Blaise raised his hands defensively, "I'm saying it as a friend." He assured the blond, though secretly he enjoyed that the oh-so-cool Draco had lost his composure for a moment.

Draco stabbed a sausage on his plate sulkily. "Piss off, Zabini."

Blaise chuckled at how much the boy across from him reminded him of an eight year-old version of Draco, and not a 17 year-old version. This earned him a glare from the boy in question. Blaise sighed tiredly, setting his fork down.

"How are you going to handle not taunting her if you're like this after about three days?" Blaise asked. "It's not like you can just go and talk to her...unless of course you wanna get hexed."

Draco shook his head, as he played with his food. "Not sure what you're talking about, Zabini." He said, feigning ignorance.

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Yes you do, Malfoy. In a way, you miss her."

Draco slammed his fork down irritably, causing a few faces around them to look at them curiously. He leaned forward and hissed, "Would you just shut up? I don't want to talk about _that_."

Blaise didn't flinch at his friend's outburst; he'd seen similar moments many times; though he had to admit, the older Draco got, the rarer they became. "If you say so, mate." Blaise said, letting the subject drop.

He'd noticed that since Draco had stopped using bullying as an excuse to get to Hermione, that he'd been getting increasingly moody. Blaise could only assume that it had to do with her absence; especially since Draco had a similar reaction just weeks before, when Hermione had ignored his attempts to start trouble. He'd acted like a drug addict that had gone without his fix.

At this point, Blaise knew that Draco no longer had an excuse to go near her. Potter and Weasley had moved on, not seeing the worth in hexing her; and even then Draco risked expulsion if he messed with her himself, especially now that Snape was keeping an eye out. Even though Draco was Snape's favourite, being his godson and all, Snape's influence and protection could only go so far.

Blaise was sure Snape had pushed his influence as far as he could in not getting them in trouble for Hermione's hospitalisation, knowing full well that if Potter and Weasley got in serious trouble it would most likely rebound back onto Draco. Blaise was sure they wouldn't be so lucky if it happened a second time.

All in all, Blaise wasn't sure how his friend would handle his distance from the nerdy Gryffindor, and so far it didn't look like he was handling it well.

"You know, if you were more charming with the women, I wouldn't have this problem." Draco said suddenly, not looking up from his plate.

Blaise raised his head from his plate to stare at Draco incredulously. "How is any of this my fault?"

"If she wasn't angry at you, she'd be going near you, and therefore, me," he said, looking up from his plate.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. Was he serious? "Yes, and if you weren't such a wanker all the time, she wouldn't hate you in the first place."

Draco didn't answer and went back to staring at his plate, pushing his food around with his fork. Blaise knew his friend was just trying to take his frustration out on someone, when he used to take it out on Granger, the actual cause of it.

Blaise was certain that Draco wouldn't last long without doing something to get Granger's attention, he only hoped it wouldn't come back to hurt him in the long run, especially if he wanted something with the Gryffindor. That's _if_ he ever decided exactly what he was going to do with her.

Blaise looked over at his friend; he was still staring sulkily at his plate. He shook his head, deciding he even preferred Draco when he was moody, instead of when he was wallowing in self pity.

Blaise's eyes were pulled away from Draco and over to the doors, however, when he noticed a flash of red hair enter. He went to look away, realising it was just Ginny, and not Ron.

The latter had been very scarce the last couple of days, only making an appearance at meal times. Draco had snickered, saying that he was probably trying to fix his tarnished reputation by proving he did, in fact, like girls. Blaise couldn't help but believe this might be true.

He went to look away from the red-head, who had once been a source of anguish and nerves for Blaise, when he suddenly noticed who she'd entered the hall with.

Hermione and Longbottom were walking by her side. He wasn't so much interested in Longbottom, but _Hermione_? Since when were her and Ginny so..._chummy_? And they certainly did look chummy. Ginny was saying something that was obviously very humorous, and Hermione was giggling away merrily.

Blaise was stunned for a moment, wondering just when that friendship had started, before he heard Draco mutter, "Fucking hell..."

Blaise looked back to his friend, to notice he was looking in the same direction as Blaise, and not looking too happy about it either.

Blaise looked back over to the scene across the room, and saw Ginny and Draco had locked eyes. Ginny gave him a small smirk and narrowed her eyes slightly, which was rather unsettling, before she turned her attention back to Hermione.

Draco tore his eyes away from the sight, and stared at Blaise accusingly. "She knows. How does she know, Zabini? You told me you convinced her that day in the library that there was nothing going on."

Blaise was just as shocked as Draco. "I swear, mate, I thought she believed me." He assured his friend honestly. Obviously, Ginny wasn't as gullible as he'd first thought. He cursed himself for not doing more to convince her that day in the library.

Draco shook his head angrily, before turning back around to peek at the Gryffindor table. Blaise followed his gaze, and noticed that Ginny and Hermione were still talking.

Draco turned back around, looking severely uncomfortable. "I can only imagine the things Ginny's telling her about me. Guess this is her idea of revenge." He muttered bitterly.

Blaise knew this was probably the case, but for the sake of his friends' mood, and his own head, he lied. "I'm sure they aren't talking about you...maybe they're talking about Weasley?" Blaise suggested hopefully.

Draco gave him a withering look. "Don't bullshit me, Zabini."

Blaise decided not to, and merely shrugged. "Sorry mate. But really, would she tell her anything she doesn't already know or suspect about you?" Blaise asked, pushing his food around his plate. "She already knows you're a git, her opinion of you can't exactly get any lower."

He scooped up some eggs, and went to bring his fork to his mouth, but stopped when he saw the death stare Draco was sending him from across the table. "What?" Asked Blaise innocently.

"You really know how to make someone feel better, don't you, Zabini?" Draco commented, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Blaise shrugged, finally popping his fork in his mouth. "You said not to bullshit you, that's the truth of it."

Draco scowled. Blaise sighed. "Look mate, you could see this as a good thing. If anything, you can only get better from here."

Draco thought for a moment, before his expression showed that he didn't think it was such a bad thing after all. "You have a point, Zabini. You aren't as stupid as you look."

Blaise scowled and was about to retort the insult, when Weasley came and sat next to them, looking as moody as ever.

"Morning," he muttered, as he reached for a plate of bacon, though he looked like his morning had been anything but good.

"Where's your boyfriend, Weasley?" Someone from the adjacent Hufflepuff table called loudly. A few people laughed. Weasley scowled, his fist closing tightly around his fork.

Blaise heard Draco snicker. Clearly Weasley's misfortune was making him feel better about his own problems.

"Morning, Weasley," Blaise greeted, ignoring the comment from the Hufflepuffs. "How are things, today?" Blaise had a feeling he already knew the answer, despite asking.

Weasley sighed miserably between bites of his breakfast. "What do you think, Zabini? I haven't been laid in two days, and I haven't even been offered because all the girls think I'm bloody gay. Not to mention all these idiotic comments." He turned to scowl at the Hufflepuffs, most of which were still laughing.

Blaise saw Draco smirk behind his goblet of pumpkin juice, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"That's too bad, mate," Blaise said as sympathetically as he could manage, "Where's Potter, though?"

Weasley nodded toward the end of the table. Blaise looked toward where Weasley motioned and saw Potter sitting with a group of Slytherin girls, including Pansy. They seemed to be riveted to his conversation, and many were leaning in toward him listening intently.

"Why's he sitting there?" Blaise asked, turning back to Weasley.

Weasley shrugged. "Dunno, haven't spoken to him in a couple of days. We agreed its best until the rumours die down; though I think he might be using the rumours to his advantage. Last night he told me Pansy let him in the Prefects bathroom while she bathed to talk 'girl talk'." He mimicked in a miserable voice.

Blaise scoffed. That sounded exactly like Potter. Next to him Draco didn't look so surprised.

"It's Pansy," Draco said, "She's not exactly first rate, is she. Then again, she'll probably try to turn him straight." He smirked, while Weasley scowled bitterly.

Weasley shrugged. "Dunno. But I know it hasn't worked for me. Every girl I talk to just starts complaining to me about their ex-boyfriends, thinking I understand just how they feel." Weasley grumbled.

Draco snorted, earning himself another scowl from Weasley.

"Anyway, the only positive thing that's come from it is I've got more girls talking to me than ever before, it's just that none of them want to shag me."

Draco patted Weasley on the back sympathetically, though he looked far too amused at his friends' plight.

"Don't worry, mate. If worst comes to worse, I'm sure there are a few guys around the school who'd be happy to have you."

Weasley scowled at Draco and shrugged his arm off, which caused the other boy to chuckle.

"Piss off, Malfoy. I'm not in the mood for your jokes." Weasley hissed, not amused in the slightest.

Draco merely shrugged, and went back to his breakfast, though the smirk on his face never faltered.

Ten minutes later, the sounds of chatter in the hall were drowned out by the hundreds of flapping wings and hoots of the mail owls coming in through the high windows. The owls swooped down to find the recipients of the numerous letters and packages they each carried.

Blaise was startled when a very uncoordinated owl landed in front of them, knocking over the pitcher of pumpkin juice that sat between them.

"Bloody hell," Draco snapped, as he grabbed a napkin to wipe up the spillage before it hit him. "You call that a mail owl?"

Weasley didn't answer, however, as he was staring at the owl wide eyed, with something akin to fear. Blaise eyed the owl, and suddenly realised why the red head was so fearful. Attached to the leg of the scruffy owl, was a red envelope.

Blaise heard Draco snicker. "Better open it soon, Weasley, before it explodes."

Weasley swallowed nervously, before his shaky hand untied the envelope. He hesitated for a moment, before taking a deep breath and opening the seal. Immediately the envelope hovered in the air, and gasped in a large breath, before it started screeching.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" The bellowing voice of a furious Mrs Weasley echoed through the hall, causing everyone to turn their attention to the sound.

"I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGRACED AT YOUR BEHAVIOUR! HEXING A FELLOW STUDENT! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU ARE LUCKY YOU DIDN'T END UP IN AZKABAN, LET ALONE EXPELLED! YOU'RE LUCKY I DON'T MAKE YOU COME HOME RIGHT NOW AS PUNISHMENT!" Draco sniggered at this.

"IF ANYTHING LIKE THIS HAPPENS AGAIN, YOU GUARANTEE IT WON'T BE WORTH YOUR LIFE, MISTER!"

Weasley let out a breath, believing the ordeal to be over, before his mother started screeching again, though not as loudly.

"And Harry!" The envelope cried, turning toward the bespectacled boy. "I thought you'd have more sense than to hex someone, especially given your past!"

Down the table, Blaise saw Potter hang his head, looking both ashamed and embarrassed.

"I'm thoroughly ashamed in you! And I expect better behaviour from you in the future! Oh, and let Ginny know I've ordered her dress robes, Ronald!"

With that, the envelope shredded into pieces and fell on the table gracefully. The sudden silence in the hall compared to what had just been was overwhelming. Ron sat there staring at it in shock, in fact for a moment Blaise was worried for the teen.

Around the hall, people began snickering and whispering about what had just passed.

"How romantic!" Someone called out, "The two lovers are in trouble together!"

The hall broke out into snickers and both Weasley and Potter turned to glare at the anonymous voice.

Next to Weasley, Draco was grinning at his expense, highly amused. "Wonder how she found out about that?" he asked the red head. The boy merely scowled at no one in particular.

* * *

><p>Across the hall, Hermione sat laughing at Weasley's expression of horror. Next to her, Ginny was looking very pleased with herself indeed.<p>

"Pay back for both of us, I'd say," she commented, smirking as the colour of Ron's face turned the same shade as his hair.

"That was great, Ginny," Hermione said, still grinning. She couldn't believe that someone would create such an embarrassing situation for their own brother, but she thought it was brilliant, especially because no one deserved it more than Weasley.

"It was, wasn't it? But I think I should leave before I get hexed," she said, cheekily.

Hermione looked over at the Silver Marauders, to find Weasley glaring at his sister, a look of pure rage on his face.

Ginny stood, giving Hermione a quick goodbye before she zoomed out the Great Hall doors, followed not long after by a fuming Ron Weasley, whose wand was out as he gave chase.

"Hopefully she's ok," Neville commented, having seen Ginny's escape.

"I think she's capable of handling herself," Hermione said, proudly, "I'm actually more worried for Weasley."

Neville grinned at her, and she couldn't help but return it.

The moment ended quickly, however, when she suddenly felt the unmistakeable feeling of eyes on her, causing a tingle to go down her spine. Upon looking across the hall, her eyes met a pair of gray ones. Draco Malfoy was staring at her, not even caring that he'd been sprung.

Why would he be staring at her?

Hermione hated to admit it, but his penetrative stare made her stomach flip. She couldn't, however, let him think that he unnerved her, so instead she did what she usually did these days, and sent him her most hate-filled scowl, before looking away.

Across the hall Blaise heard Draco sigh. "What's up?" Blaise asked him, looking up from his near-empty plate.

Draco shrugged, his face masked into a blank expression. "Nothing. We should probably get to class, now though." He said, picking up his book bag and leaving the table, heading straight towards the doors.

Blaise was surprised by his friends' sudden departure and his eyes were drawn to the only reason he could think of for it; the Gryffindor sitting across the hall. He wasn't expecting much, but was actually surprised when he saw her watching Draco's leaving form, secretly, from under her lashes.

She seemed to come to her senses a second later because she turned away quickly, looking extremely awkward, and blushing slightly. Blaise couldn't help the small smirk that came to his face. Perhaps she didn't hate Draco as much as she claimed.

* * *

><p>In Ancient Runes that day, Hermione was not surprised when the seat next to her was pulled out, and Wayne Hopkins sat down, looking at her with unbridled interest. She'd gotten used to the boys company, so she didn't question why he sat next to her now.<p>

"How you feeling, Frills?" he asked, after a moment. Hermione's head whipped around to scowl at him, but he merely put his hands up in defence and grinned.

"I'm just kidding, Hermione," he assured her, sincerely, "but really, how are you feeling?"

Hermione relaxed slightly, and shrugged. "I feel fine now, no thanks to Potter." She said, remembering how he'd been the one to throw that nasty hex her way.

Wayne pulled out his quill and ink. "I was pretty surprised at Potter, actually. I never thought even _he'd_ go that far. But then again, I never thought he was gay either."

Hermione looked down smirking, "Yes, it's a big surprise." She agreed.

Wayne looked thoughtful for a moment. "I dunno, I always thought Potter hated me a bit too much. He probably has a thing for me." He made a face. Hermione snorted in amusement.

"You can't possibly be serious, right?" She asked, incredulously.

He shrugged. "You never know. I'm quite the catch." He grinned at her. Hermione rolled her eyes in good nature.

"I'm sure you are," she said amusedly, before turning back to her work. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Hopkins was still watching her. She sighed, before turning to him.

"What?" she asked. He had a lopsided grin on his face. He shook his head, still smiling.

"Nothing." He said, turning back to his own work.

Hermione felt like it really was more than nothing, but didn't question it, deciding she'd rather not know. The look on Wayne Hopkins face made her a little worried, however, and she found it hard to concentrate for the rest of the lesson.

* * *

><p>Blaise and Draco had just finished their lesson in Arithmancy, and were making their way to Transfiguration when they were stopped by Ravenclaw Prefect Mandy Brocklehurst. She smiled brightly at Blaise, giving him a quick greeting, before turning to Draco.<p>

"I don't know if you've been told yet," she began, "but we've got a prefect meeting tonight after dinner."

Draco nodded. "Cheers, Brocklehurst. Do you know who's patrolling tonight?"

Mandy thought for a moment, before speaking. "I'm not sure. I think it might be Hermione Granger and Garret Redmond."

Blaise saw how Draco suddenly became _very_ interested in the conversation.

"Don't Ravenclaw have a Quidditch game tomorrow?" he asked, casually.

Mandy nodded. "Yeah. Sucks for Garret then." She shrugged.

"I could cover for him tonight," Draco offered. Mandy and Blaise both gave him odd looks. Blaise however, knew exactly why he would make such an offer.

"And why would you do something so nice?" Mandy asked suspiciously, crossing her arms in front of her.

Draco shrugged, successfully acting nonchalant. "Maybe I just want them to kick Hufflepuffs ass? I'd like to see Hopkins lose again."

Mandy didn't seem to fully believe his story, but shrugged anyway, obviously not caring what his motives were as long as Ravenclaw had an advantage in tomorrow's game. "Alright then," she agreed. "I'll let Garret know."

With that, she left them standing in the corridor. Blaise turned to Draco, who had a look of achievement on his face.

"You're such a stalker," he accused the blonde lightly. Draco turned to him and scowled.

"Shut up, Zabini. If I left it to you to get on her good side for me, I'd get nowhere."

Blaise gave him a withering look. "And you think she's going to be happy to do rounds with you? That she's going to make polite conversation?" Blaise asked.

Draco shrugged. "I don't care what she wants to do, it's what I want. She used to like me Blaise, what's to stop that from happening again?"

"Geez, I dunno," said Blaise in mock thought, "maybe the fact that she isn't 11 anymore, and you've spent the last five years taunting her."

"So? That can change." Draco argued.

"Not overnight it won't. And by the looks of it, you haven't changed much either." Blaise stated, earning himself a glare from Draco.

"I shouldn't have to change," he said, looking slightly put out, "I just have to stop hexing her, and I have. She'll throw herself at me eventually."

Blaise shrugged. "Maybe. But I don't think it's going to happen as easily as you think. And when it doesn't, you might have to change tactics."

Draco huffed impatiently. "Look, mate, I don't even know what I want yet. At the end of the day she's still a mudblood, and nothing can really happen. If anything it might just be a bit of fun, just to get her out of my system."

Blaise narrowed his eyes at his friend, who didn't seem to see the error of what he was saying. "So what are you saying? That you'd just use her for sex or something?" he asked, feeling the anger rise in him by the second.

Draco looked uncomfortable, and shrugged. "I dunno, Zabini. You know my father."

"Yeah, I do. And I think it's about time you told him to get fucked. You're just gutless." Blaise said, angrily. He strode down the corridor away from Draco toward the Transfiguration classroom, knowing they were already late.

Draco caught up to him, looking annoyed. "That's easy for you to say," he snapped angrily, as he kept with Blaise's fast pace, "your mother doesn't give a shit what you do. She barely raised you! She was too busy gallivanting around the world with her many lovers to even have time for you."

In a split second, Blaise had grabbed Draco by the front of his robes, and slammed him backwards against the stone walls of the corridor, causing Draco to wince in pain.

"What the fuck?" Draco exclaimed, his face contorted between shock, anger and pain.

"Don't you talk about my mother like that, you fucking wanker," Blaise hissed in his face. It was one of the rare occasions that Blaise had lost his temper. Draco stared at him, sensing that he'd hit a sensitive spot.

For years, Blaise had known his mother preferred the flighty lifestyle to staying home and raising a child, and it had always got to him, no matter how much he ignored it.

Draco knew this; Blaise hated that Draco knew his weakness. But Blaise knew they both had similar issues; Blaise's mother was absent, and Draco's father was over controlling and abusive. It was one of the many reasons they relied on each other so highly.

Blaise let his breathing settle for a moment before he let go of Draco's robes, and awkwardly stepped back, brushing his own robes down.

"I'm sorry, you know how I get. Just...I can't agree with you using Granger like that, because I've seen it happen to my mother many times." Blaise said after a moment of silence. Draco nodded.

"I know, mate." Draco said. Blaise looked up at his friend and saw nothing but understanding. He knew Draco was worried he'd pushed him too far. Blaise nodded in acceptance, letting his friend know he knew that. Draco didn't, however, assure him of his intentions towards Hermione, but Blaise was not in the mood to push him further on the subject.

After a moment of silence, Draco spoke. "I think we should just skip Transfiguration; we're already late."

Blaise, who normally would have argued, merely shrugged. He was no longer in the mood for it. "Alright. What do you wanna do?"

Draco thought for a moment. "Well after this we have Potions, so we should probably make sure we go to that, but for now, I think we should cause some trouble."

On most occasions, Blaise would be the mature one of the group, and stop his friends' plans before they got started. This, however, was not one of those days, and Blaise merely returned Draco's smirk as they strolled down the corridor.

The boys decided to sneak into the Great hall. It was completely empty, as expected, and both boys slipped through the doors unnoticed.

"Alright," Draco began, looking around the large hall, "I think a little prank is in order."

"Little?" Blaise asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Draco smirked, "Ok, maybe not so little."

Blaise shook his head and snorted. "Better get started then."

And so they did. By the time Potions rolled around, the two stood at the entrance to the hall looking mighty pleased with themselves.

"Make sure we get here for dinner early," Draco reminded Blaise, "I don't want to miss this."

The other boy grinned. "No problem. Come on, Potions is in ten minutes."

The two boys made their way out the door of the Great hall and down to the dungeons. They were early, and the room was occupied by a second year class, so they stood outside leaning against the stone wall while they waited.

After a few minutes, the class began filing out, and the rest of the sixth years began filing in. Hermione was one of those students, and when Draco noticed her coming, he elbowed Blaise in the side.

"You should try and talk to her," he whispered to Blaise. The other boy looked up to see who Draco was talking about, and sighed.

"Why? She's pissed at me," Blaise said, trying to ignore how Draco was nudging him over towards her.

"Just do it, Zabini. Come on!" he pushed Blaise once more and the other boy retaliated by pushing him back. A small scuffle ensued and they only stopped when they heard someone clear their throat.

Looking up they saw Snape eyeing them with an expression that showed he was far from amused; behind him, Hermione stood staring at them like they were insane. Both boys shifted awkwardly on their feet, feeling slightly embarrassed at their behaviour.

"If you two are done wrestling like buffoons," Snape drawled, "you have a class to attend."

The potions master swept back into the classroom, with Hermione following a way behind him. Draco nudged Blaise once more, and the teen groaned in annoyance before he spat out, "Hermione!"

The Gryffindor sighed and turned on her heel, scowling between the two of them.

"How are you?" Blaise began, in an uncertain voice. He heard Draco next to him sigh, obviously disappointed in his pathetic attempt to start conversation.

"Look Zabini," she interrupted, looking far from happy, "I've got a class to get to, and to be honest you two are the last people I want to talk too. _Sod_. _Off_." She emphasised the last words, as she turned back around and strode into the classroom.

Blaise sighed and next to him he heard Draco give a low whistle. "She's quite the feisty one," Draco commented, and he didn't look like he minded it that much. "I wonder if she's like that-,"

"Don't even go there," Blaise warned him with a pointed look. "If you're just going to try and get into her pants, then don't bother. I doubt she's the type to settle for that."

Draco thought for a moment, before sighing. "You're probably right. I think she's still a virgin."

Blaise gave him a withering look. "Have you been watching her moves that closely?"

Draco's cheeks tinged pink. "No." Blaise gave him a look. "I haven't! It's not hard to tell." He insisted.

Blaise was about to retort, when someone cleared their throat. It was Snape again. Both boys eyed him fearfully, but he merely sneered at them.

"If you are done with your obviously riveting conversation," he began, menacingly, "the class is waiting on you. I am not as lenient as Professor McGonagall. Now, move it."

Both boys' eyes widened at Snape's insinuation, but the Professor merely turned and walked into the classroom. They both followed nervously behind.

"Do you think he knows?" Draco whispered to Blaise as they took their seats.

Blaise shrugged, "I don't know. It looks like it."

Draco cursed under his breath before whispering, "Do you think he told McGonagall?"

"Dunno," Blaise whispered in reply, "I'm sure we'll find out though."

And find out, they did. On their way to the Great Hall for dinner that night, they were stopped by a very stern looking McGonagall. After five minutes of nodding blankly as she verbally berated them, they were let off, though not without punishment. Their weekend would now be spent sitting in the Transfiguration classroom, writing lines.

Both boys grumbled miserably as they stepped into the hall at dinner time; their moods brightening significantly as they remembered what a show dinner would be. Instead of hanging in the entrance hall like they, and many students, usually did, they sat in their seats and shared a mischievous grin as the first of the students trailed in.

As soon as the first bums hit the seats, the silence of the hall was drowned out by the sound of students breaking into song. Every time a student sat down they had the overwhelming urge to sing the latest Celestina Warbeck song, 'A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love'. One of Blaise's mothers personal favourites.

The Slytherin table was the only one not affected, and by the time the whole student body made their way in, they were the only ones snickering at the expense of the others.

The teachers, excluding Dumbledore who was swaying along merrily, didn't seem to be impressed, and eventually a very red faced McGonagall waved her wand and the hall fell silent.

Draco turned to Blaise, a satisfied smirk on his face. "She laughed."

"Who?" Blaise asked, confused, "McGonagall?"

He was certain McGonagall was about to pop a vein in her head, and it wasn't from laughing.

Draco sighed impatiently, "No, _her_."

Blaise looked over to the Gryffindor table, and true to Draco's word, Hermione was still smiling at the previous antics.

"Doesn't that prove my point?" Draco asked him.

Blaise turned to look at his friend, "What was your point?"

"That I don't have to change. I did this and she thought it was funny. You just wait, Zabini." He said confidently, looking extremely happy with himself as he filled his plate.

Blaise didn't comment, but secretly wondered if Draco was right.

* * *

><p>Hermione sat in the prefects meeting that night after dinner taking notes and listening intently. They were currently organising the Halloween dance that would happen next month, and though Hermione didn't care much for the yearly dance, she was not one to slack off on her duties. Not to say that <em>other<em> people weren't.

Across the room, she eyed Draco Malfoy disdainfully. He was sitting back in a relaxed fashion, not paying attention at all, not that he ever did. She was surprised he'd even been made a prefect, but then again she was sure his name and popularity had something to do with it.

She sighed, leaning back in her seat. That boy was a nuisance, that's for sure. He was also becoming more and more puzzling by the day. Before, when he used to taunt her constantly, and treat her like dirt, she at least could file him away in a rightful place: as a complete wanker that isn't worth her time or thought.

Now, however, he wasn't so easily understood. In fact, he was thoroughly confusing her. He didn't taunt or hex her anymore, he didn't harass her, he hadn't even said one bad word to her lately, and it frustrated her to not know why.

Was he just changing his ways so he didn't get expelled? Had he just grew bored of it? Had he genuinely changed? She didn't know, but she had to admit that the change had made her think of him more than she ever did before. In an attempt to figure him out, she'd been thinking about him on a daily basis, and it disturbed her.

She didn't want to be curious about him. She didn't want to think about him at all. Deep down, in the most neurotic part of her brain, she wondered whether he knew the effect he was having on her and whether it was a purposeful attempt at taunting her in a different way. Whatever the reason, it was very much getting to her.

She looked back over at the blond teen and narrowed her eyes. He was so damn arrogant and cocky and- he was looking at her!

She shifted her eyes to a random place on the wall, away from his gray stare, and tried to ignore the flush of embarrassment that was currently rising on her cheeks. She inwardly cursed at herself. She could only imagine what he would think if he caught her staring. He'd probably go around telling everyone that she _did,_ in fact, write his name on her knickers. That thought only made her cheeks redden more.

"Hermione?" Someone called, breaking her out of her thoughts. She looked up and cursed as the first face her eyes went to was the extremely amused one of Draco Malfoy. He wasn't the one who called her, however, and she turned away swiftly to look at the Head Girl who was staring at her with a worried expression.

"Are you feeling ok?" The head girl asked her, "You look a little flushed?"

Hermione cleared her throat and straightened before answering. "I feel great, really." She assured her.

The head girl nodded. "So you'll be fine to do rounds now?" Hermione nodded. "Great. We've had a swap though; Garret's got a game tomorrow, so Malfoy will be filling in."

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked between the relaxed face of Malfoy and the Head Girl. "Him?" She asked in disbelief.

The Head Girl looked confused for a moment, before nodding. "Yes, him. The meeting's over now anyway," She announced, "You should probably go put your things away and get started."

With that everyone stood and left the room. Hermione followed them out slowly before seeing Malfoy sauntering down the corridor. She narrowed her eyes, adjusted the strap of her book bag on her shoulder and strode down the hallway, bumping his shoulder as she passed, before stopping in front of him. He looked at her, surprised, before his mouth formed a small smirk.

She tried to ignore how her stomach suddenly flipped, playing it off as too much treacle tart at dinner.

"I don't know what you're playing at, you git," she hissed, trying to sound as threatening as possible, "but if you think you've given me a false sense of security, only to hex me when I least expect it tonight, then you're wrong. If you so much as even stick your wand in my face-,"

She stopped abruptly when she saw the teen snickering. Feeling slightly put out that, she crossed her arms. "What, may I ask, is so damn amusing?" She asked, angrily.

"Stick my wand in your face? Do you make everything sound like an extremely awkward sexual innuendo?" he asked, amused.

She sniffed haughtily, trying to ignore the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Not everyone is an immature idiot." She said. "Just leave me alone tonight, and we'll have no problems."

With that she turned and left, not bothering to glance back, but knowing he was still watching her. It sent a shiver down her spine, and when she turned the corner she let out a long breath of air that she'd been holding the whole time, thankful to have rid herself of the unnerving sensation of his eyes on her.

* * *

><p>Hermione reluctantly made her way down to the entrance hall that night, dreading the time she would have to spend in the presence of 'Draco the Insufferable'. She snickered at the name she'd just made up for him, but jumped when she heard someone speak from behind her.<p>

"Something amusing, Granger?" Malfoy drawled as he walked over to her.

_Yes._ "No." She said, shortly.

He sighed. "Let's just get started with rounds."

Hermione nodded, and they both made their way onto the grounds. There was silence for about five minutes, before Draco spoke. "Did you enjoy the dinner entertainment?"

Hermione shrugged. "It was fairly amusing. I wonder who did it?" She asked, not really expecting him to know.

Draco smirked at her. "I'll let you in on a secret, Granger. You're looking at him."

Hermione glanced at him. "It was you?"

He grinned and nodded. "And Blaise too." He added.

Hermione scoffed. "Figures that you'd do something so immature." She said haughtily.

She saw Draco's grin fade, and his brows furrowed. "You just said it was, and I quote, 'fairly amusing'."

Hermione sniffed before looking away. "That's before I knew who did it. Now it's just immature."

She heard him sigh. They were silent for a few minutes, before Draco spoke again.

"So any battle scars?" he asked as the continued in the darkness, scanning the surroundings. It was difficult to see and Hermione noticed Draco cast _Lumos_ next to her. She cursed herself for not doing it earlier, but wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of casting it after him, lest he think she'd copied him.

"No, all my scars are healed. I'm sure you're sad to hear that."

"Like I said in the hospital wing, Granger, I didn't know about it." His voice sounded very insistent, and almost tired.

Hermione didn't pity him. "That's not to say you didn't enjoy it," she argued back.

He sighed. "Even if I was telling the truth, you wouldn't believe me anyway, so why even bother." He muttered.

Hermione turned on him. "Of course I wouldn't believe you; I wouldn't trust a word you said. You've really proven your character over the years, Malfoy, why change it now?"

She turned away and continued walking. He kept her pace.

"Who said I was trying to change my character?" he asked as they walked along.

"Look," Hermione hissed, rounding on him once more, "Why are you trying to talk to me? Why are you attempting to be civil? I don't trust you one bit, so whatever you're trying to pull, don't bother."

Draco merely raised his eyebrow. "You're pretty paranoid, aren't you?"

Hermione huffed, moving away from him. "Why wouldn't I be? You've made me paranoid."

He didn't answer her and when she looked back she noticed he wasn't walking and was instead standing there deep in thought. "Are you coming, or are you going to stand there all night?" She asked impatiently.

He turned to her and stared for a moment before walking forward and catching up to her. Hermione shook her head; he was insane.

They walked in silence for a few minutes more, before Draco spoke once again. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Since when was he so chatty with her?

"Why are you pissed at Zabini?" he asked.

Hermione sighed. She was not expecting to have to make conversation at all tonight, let alone talk about that.

"That's none of your business, Malfoy." She said, stubbornly.

"Actually, it is Granger. He's my best mate, and you're angry at him because of me. I'd say every bit of it is my business." He retorted.

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "Well it doesn't mean I'm going to talk about it with you. If Zabini wants to talk to me, he's capable of doing it himself. I think that's his problem, he lets you control him and his actions." She said, as they walked past the greenhouses.

She didn't notice that Draco had stopped walking again until she looked next to her, and he wasn't there. She turned around impatiently to find him standing a few metres away, staring at her with furrowed brows.

"You really think that." He said; it wasn't a question.

Hermione didn't exactly see what the big deal was, and shrugged. "Yes. If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have stood by while you bullied me and Neville for years."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Blaise makes his own choices. If he didn't stop us, it's because he didn't want to."

Hermione shook her head at his reasoning. "Then it won't matter if I forgive him or not."

She turned and continued walking not caring if he followed or not. After a few seconds she heard him fall into step beside her once more.

"You're too stubborn for your own good. You think you know everything about everyone, but you don't."

Hermione bristled. "I never said that. But really, you boys haven't given me a reason to think there's more to you then idiotic bullying, so excuse me for thinking that." She said, defensively.

"People change, Granger."

Hermione scoffed. "That's rich coming from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked. Hermione could hear the anger in his voice.

"I'm merely saying, you're the biggest git out of everyone and you're sitting here lecturing me?" She shook her head in disbelief.

Draco grabbed her arm and whipped her around to look at him. "When was the last time I hexed you?"

Hermione didn't answer, but merely scowled at him. He smirked.

"See? I'm not saying I've changed, but I've certainly left you alone."

Hermione pulled her arm out of his grip. "Do you want a medal for that? Just because you haven't hexed someone for a couple of weeks, doesn't mean anything."

She stormed off angrily, heading back inside the doors of the Entrance Hall. She could hear Draco's footsteps following behind.

"Oh, come off it," he said angrily, "what do you want, Granger? Do you want me to pay for my past actions with blood?"

She laughed bitterly. "No, that's usually what I did whenever you and your friends decided to hex me!" She stormed her way upstairs to the second floor, not caring that she was doing a very poor job of patrolling; she just wanted it over and done with as soon as possible.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Granger, I never hurt you that bad." He said, sounding thoroughly tired. Hermione narrowed her eyes before turning to him.

"How do you know how bad you hurt me? Not all damage has to be physical, you git." She scowled at him before turning back around.

Draco didn't say anything for a moment, and Hermione held hope that maybe he'd gone a different direction; but she sighed when she heard his footsteps behind her.

"What do you expect, Granger," he began, "You're a mudblood. It's all I've known."

Hermione turned angrily, surprised for a moment to see a hint of regret on his face; she was quickly overwhelmed by rage, however, and chose to ignore it. "Back to your old self, I see." She commented, bitterly.

Draco looked at her oddly for a moment, before scoffing. "Oh come on, you can't seriously still be affected by that name. You've been called it for years."

Hermione scowled, and before she knew it, she had closed the distance between them, raised her hand and slapped him square across the face. They both stood there shocked for a moment before Hermione stepped away.

"That's what it feels like whenever I hear that name," she muttered, quietly. Draco stood there in shock, looking like he couldn't quite decide how to react.

"I'm smarter than most purebloods, better at magic and spells, I get better grades, and yet that's still the only thing you use against me. I may have heard it for years, mostly from you," she added, bitterly, "but it doesn't mean it'll stop having an effect."

They stood there in silence for a moment, neither seemed to be sure of what to say or do. Hermione assumed the rage would get to him soon and that his wand would be pointed at her in no time. She gripped her own in her pocket, just in case.

"I suppose you're going to hex me now," she said, resentfully, "get it over with then."

Draco didn't move, and continued to stare at her wide eyed. He merely shook his head after a moment.

She sighed. "Don't pretend to understand how I feel or tell me what I should feel. You haven't had a hard day in your life, Malfoy, whereas you've been the cause for every crappy day I've had."

She sighed, remembering the number of times he'd hexed and hurt her and left her crying. She then remembered how Blaise had helped her, maybe not directly, but his influence had stopped them somewhat.

"I'll talk to Blaise, only because he's been decent to me. But I'm not sure what you want, or what you're motivation is in trying to convince me you're not a horrible person. Actions speak louder than words, and you've proven to me for five years who you are and what you really think of me. I'm used to that; don't start trying to mess with me in different ways just because you can't hex me anymore. Potter and Weasley have left me alone, you should try that too."

"Look, Granger-,"

"No you look," she interrupted strongly. "There's no point in even talking about this. I hate you, you hate me. That's that. Let's just finish rounds so we don't have to spend longer in each other's company then necessary."

With that she turned and continued walking, not bothering to see if he followed. And he didn't. She didn't see him for the rest of the night and assumed he'd either shirked his duty, or was avoiding her to reduce the temptation of hexing her.

She went to bed that night, feeling on edge for some reason. She couldn't forget the expression on his face when she had slapped him; he looked so...miserable. She mentally berated herself; she was not supposed to be feeling sorry for him. He was a git and always would be, whether he hexed her or not.

She hoped she'd finished whatever war they had, and that he'd leave her alone from now on, considering he didn't try to hex her in retaliation for her slap. She decided she would try to stop thinking about him from now on, and hoped their 'talk' would lead him to have the same attitude.

As she fell asleep, the only thing she could think of were Ginny Weasley's words from earlier that day.

'Sometimes it's better to have him hate you.'

Hermione agreed. Hate was an emotion she was used to associating with him, it was comfortable, it was routine, and she wanted it to stay that way.

* * *

><p>Down in the dungeons, Blaise sat on his bed reading his Transfiguration text, attempting to catch up on what they'd missed that day.<p>

The dorm was completely empty. Goyle was off somewhere; and Potter and Weasley were off enjoying their Friday night, trying to prove that they really did enjoy the company of women. They hadn't asked him to join them tonight, probably assuming that having one definite straight guy around would ruin their chances of getting any girls to pay attention to them.

Blaise yawned, before closing his book and standing to head into the bathroom. He showered and dressed in his boxers before slipping into bed. He was just about to drift off to sleep when the dormitory door opened and closed with a slam.

Blaise sat up, and waved his wand turning on the lights. Sitting on the end of his bed across the room was Draco. The teen looked a mixture between angry and devastated.

"What are you doing back so early?" Blaise asked him. Draco didn't reply, but merely sat staring at the wall.

"Ok. How'd it go with Hermione?" Again Draco didn't answer. Blaise sighed.

"Is she angry at you? You really shouldn't be surprised, mate."

Draco surprised him by shaking his head. "She wasn't really angry."

"Then what's the problem?" Blaise asked, confused.

"The problem is she wasn't angry. If she was, I wouldn't take her seriously."

Blaise stared at him. "I don't understand."

Draco sighed. "She told me to leave her alone, Blaise. She said it seriously. She really meant it; not just out of anger or anything."

Blaise nodded in understanding. "You're not going to let that stop you though, right?"

Draco didn't speak for a moment. "I dunno." He said eventually.

Blaise sat up straighter. "You can't be serious? Just because she said that? Of course she'd say that! It's not going to be that easy."

"I know that. I've been thinking about it all day though, I thought if I went on rounds with her, I might get her to warm up to me a little," he shrugged, "She just straight out told me to leave her alone. She just looked tired."

Draco sighed, laying down on his bed and staring at the ceiling.

Blaise scoffed. "I didn't pick you as the quitting type."

Draco managed a shrug. "She's a mudblood, Zabini."

Blaise swore in frustration. "Why is that always what you come back to?" He asked, angrily.

"Because it's true. Not only does she genuinely hate me, she's also off limits. I think I should just go back to pretending I don't care. It was a lot easier back then."

"So you're giving up because it's not easy?" Blaise asked, incredulously.

"No. I'm giving up because even when I go through all the effort of getting her, I can't actually have her."

Before Blaise could retort, Draco had pulled the hangings around his bed. Blaise sat there for a moment unable to believe what he'd just heard. Was Draco really giving up already? Did Hermione really hate him so much that it was pointless to try? He knew she didn't, he'd seen it himself.

"She was watching you today." He said, not even sure if Draco was listening anymore.

There was silence for a moment, before he heard Draco shift and peek through the hangings.

"When?" Draco asked, looking sceptical.

"At breakfast," Blaise assured him honestly, "she watched you leave, then she blushed when she realised what she was doing."

Draco didn't talk for a moment, but Blaise could see the glint of determination lit in his eye once more. They stared at each other for a moment, before Draco spoke. His voice seemed stronger now.

"She said she'll forgive you," he said quietly.

Blaise looked surprised, before nodding. "Thanks."

Draco smirked; seemingly back to his old self. "I didn't do it for you, mate. I just need you to tell me her secrets."

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Figured as much." He joked. They both grinned.

"Thanks for telling me that before," Draco said after a moment, "I was thinking there was no hope."

Blaise shrugged. "What are friends for?"

With one last shared grin, they both pulled their hangings around their bed and fell into separate realms of thought, with only the sound of steady breathing breaking the pleasant silence of the room.

**A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think!**

**Cheers, Leni.**


	9. Chapter 9

**_Chapter 9_**

_...in which kisses are stolen._

* * *

><p>Blaise awoke late on Saturday morning to an empty dormitory. He wondered for a moment where everyone was, before remembering that there was a Quidditch game that day and that everyone would be outside on the Quidditch pitch; or at least all his roommates were.<p>

Blaise was thankful that Draco hadn't tried to drag him down there with him like he usually did. Blaise could only take so much Quidditch, and watching the Slytherin games were enough for him, let alone all of them.

He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. The windows in the dormitory were charmed to show the view outside, and Blaise estimated that it was about 10am from the amount of sunlight he could see; unfortunately for him that meant he'd missed breakfast.

He sighed before getting out from under the blankets and dressing for the day. A part of him wondered whether Luna would be around, but then he remembered Ravenclaw were playing. No doubt she'd be out there cheering her team on; he wasn't sure why, but the thought almost had him tempted to go.

Instead, however, he left the dungeons and headed up to the library, knowing full well Hermione would be in there. He hoped she really had agreed to forgive him, especially since he hadn't ever done anything to hurt her, except maybe not act against his friends.

But that was different now; Draco didn't hex her anymore, and was far too determined trying to get her to...well, Blaise wasn't sure exactly what his friend wanted from Hermione yet, but he was certain it didn't involve harming her.

That thought had Blaise thinking back to last night. Draco had almost given up because Hermione had been so blatantly uninterested. It actually had Blaise wondering whether his friend could handle a girl like Hermione.

If Draco was expecting a girl that would simply answer to his beck and call, like Pansy, then he may as well forget about it. What Blaise knew of Hermione was that she was not one to be told what to do or to become a simpering idiot. Is that what Draco expected of her?

Blaise wasn't sure, but when his friend had returned early last night from rounds he'd looked extremely miserable. The Italian wasn't sure of the exact nature of Draco and Hermione's conversation, but it obviously hadn't ended well, given Draco's mood and the clear pink hand-print on his normally pale cheek.

He wondered what sort of things Hermione had said to him, and whether they'd gotten through to Draco at all. While his friend acted obnoxious and rather ignorant most of the time, he knew deep down that Draco was more intelligent and observant then he let on, and if Hermione had given him a talking to, then there was no way it could've just gone straight over the boys head. He may act like it didn't affect him, but Blaise knew that if he really did want Hermione, then he would think on those words.

Blaise entered the library, and scanned around the book-filled room. It was completely void of people from what he could see, but he assumed Hermione was in their hidden area in the back. He continued through the shelves towards his usual desk, to find Hermione leaned over her work, and books scattered around her table.

She wasn't alone, however, in Blaise's usual seat, much to his annoyance, sat Neville Longbottom. Blaise stepped forward and cleared his throat. Both Gryffindors looked up curiously at the sound, before Hermione's face contorted to surprise. She eyed his book bag, then Neville occupying his desk, then Blaise again.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking sheepish, "I just assumed you'd be watching the Quidditch match."

Blaise gave a one armed shrug, though really he was more irritated then he let on, "It's fine."

Hermione looked at Neville, who was looking between them with a curious expression, "We can move." She said, gathering her books.

"No, no," Blaise stopped her, holding up his hand, "Its fine, really. I'll just sit somewhere else today."

He turned and strode down an adjacent aisle where he found a table that sat next to the window. It wasn't like his usual table, which was in a very private and dark nook; this one was in open space, bright as all hell, and just asked for people to come and bother you.

Blaise was glad no one was around the library today; he could only imagine the number of Ravenclaws that would take advantage of this seating arrangement.

He pulled out his homework, which consisted of Potions, Arithmancy and Herbology; his quill, parchment, and ink, and prepared to get started. He had just dipped the point of his quill in his ink, when he heard someone clear their voice behind him.

He sighed, thinking that perhaps the library wasn't as void of people as he thought, but when he turned he was surprised to see Hermione standing there, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. He raised an eyebrow in question, feeling slightly amused at her awkward behaviour. It was a welcome change from the fiery temper of hers he'd been the victim of the last couple of days.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out.

Blaise watched her for a moment. How did she go from being extremely scary one minute, to extremely awkward the next?

He shrugged, "It's fine. I suppose it won't hurt me to sit here today."

He waited for her to agree and leave him, but instead she sat down in the chair next to him.

"I'm not just sorry for that," she began quietly, wringing her hands in front of her, "I'm sorry for how I've treated you the last couple of days."

"Oh," Blaise said, not sure what else to say.

"I suppose I just felt like I had to stick up for myself for once, against your friends, and even though you didn't hurt me directly, you did sort of play a role in it. But I realised I shouldn't be angry at you...if anything, you made them stop being as bad."

Blaise was not good with people expressing thanks to him, so he just smiled and nodded, hoping that would suffice. Apparently it did, because she smiled back. The air between them suddenly cleared, and they both seemed to let out a relieved breath.

"I should probably say I'm sorry too," Blaise said, twirling his now-dry quill between his fingertips.

Hermione shook her head, and opened her mouth to disagree, but he merely held up his hand to silence her.

"I should," he insisted, thought it was hard for him to admit, "If I'd stopped them long ago, they might've left you alone."

His mind drifted to the reason Draco had for taunting Hermione. "Or maybe not," he muttered to himself.

Hermione didn't hear him, and was merely smiling at his apology. "It's fine Blaise. It wasn't up to you to stop them; I should've stuck up for myself long ago." She sighed.

Blaise nodded, wondering if it even would have worked back then, considering Draco's handling of things had only just changed recently, and even then he was still a bit of a git.

"So did Draco convince you to forgive me?" he asked, hesitantly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

He saw her stiffen, and her jaw set, "I was going to forgive you anyway." She insisted, stubbornly.

Blaise turned to look at her with a disbelieving look. She met his eyes reluctantly, before a small smile came to her face and she sighed.

"Alright, he may have convinced me, but not directly, I just realised how much less of a git you are compared to him." She said, her eyes twinkled mischievously.

Blaise snorted but smirked, "Draco's not so bad."

Hermione scoffed, "To you, maybe."

Blaise cocked his head to his head to the side, and narrowed his eyes, "His behaviour to you has changed lately. He treats you better than he treats half the school now."

Hermione scoffed again, but didn't answer. She was staring at her hands, and trying to hide her face behind her hair. Blaise could see a small blush creeping on her cheeks.

"I think you're more alike then you realise." Blaise's comment was met by a horrified and defensive expression from Hermione.

"We are not!" She said a little loudly then she intended. She looked around carefully, checking whether she'd attracted the attention of the librarian. When she was certain she hadn't, she turned back to Blaise and hissed in a much quieter voice, "I'm nothing like that...that...that _idiot_."

Blaise smirked at her idea of an insult, before holding up his hands defensively, "No need to get worked up," he teased lightly, "I'm just saying, in my opinion you are. I think my opinion is more valid then yours since I'm a completely objective third party observer."

Hermione stared at him with an odd expression for a moment, before she narrowed her eyes. "You're not completely objective," she argued, "You're best friends with Malfoy, you only see the good side of him."

Blaise raised his eyebrows, "No, Granger, being his best mate means I see the worst of him."

Hermione huffed. "Fine. But you don't know me that well, so you can't say anything about us being alike. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Blaise shrugged. "Maybe. But in my opinion, you're alike, from what I know of you. You're both stubborn," Hermione scoffed at this, "You're both very determined. You're both as moody as a dragon," Hermione narrowed her eyes menacingly, only further proving Blaise's point, "and you're both determined to find excuses to hate each other." Or at least, before Draco changed his tune.

Hermione scoffed again. "Excuse me, Zabini," she began, crossing her arms, "I have a valid reason to hate him. It's him who finds excuses to hate me!"

Blaise studied her for a moment. Her face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling with menace, just daring him to continue. He did.

"You know what I think? As a completely objective third party observer, of course," he said, smirking at her, she didn't look amused. He continued anyway.

"I don't think either of you hate each other as much as you claim." He already knew Draco didn't, and he had a feeling Hermione didn't either.

Hermione was staring at him wide-eyed, gaping like a gold fish. He began to chuckle at her, she wasn't impressed. In fact, she was so unimpressed that she picked up his Potions text book and whacked him across the arm with it.

"Hey!" He cried, rubbing his arm, "Look who's bulling people now."

Hermione gave him a withering look. "You deserved it for implying what I think you're implying."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly did you think I was implying?" he asked, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Don't play dumb, Blaise. You know _exactly_ what you were implying, and you are wrong. The only thing I feel for that git is pure hatred."

Blaise nodded. "I'm sure. Considering how defensive you got, I really believe that." He said sarcastically.

Hermione slammed the Potions text down on the table, jumping slightly at the sound before looking around once more, fearful about attracting the librarian. Blaise, however, hadn't flinched and merely watched her, amused.

Once she was certain she hadn't attracted the librarian, she turned back to him and narrowed her eyes at him menacingly. "It doesn't matter what you believe, Zabini. I hate him. I feel nothing but intense dislike for that arrogant toerag, and I'm sure he feels the same."

She sat back on her chair, crossing her arms, obviously satisfied that she won the argument. Blaise contemplated dropping the subject for a moment, but in all honesty, he was curious about broaching a subject with her.

"You used to like him," he stated, watching for a reaction. Her head whipped around to stare at him wide eyed.

"Why would you think that?" She asked, her voice sounding slightly hysterical he almost shook his head at the obvious display of emotions Gryffindors showed.

"Well, if you're reaction wasn't indication enough, I was told." He said.

Hermione sunk in her seat. "By Potter and Weasley? The ironic thing is I thought it was _you_ who I was telling at the time. Did they tell anyone else...like _him_?" She asked, looking as though she were dreading the answer.

The only hope she did have that he didn't know was that surely if Draco knew, he was far too egotistical and would've given her hell about it last night.

Blaise shook his head. "No. I, uh, told them not too." He assured her, though it was a lie. He couldn't possibly tell her that it was actually Draco under the affects of the Polyjuice potion. That would ruin his friends' chances before he even _got_ a chance.

"I'm surprised they listened to you." She said, bitterly.

Blaise shrugged. "I've got some dirt on them that they don't want to get out." He lied again.

Hermione snorted. "I'm not sure their reputations couldn't be ruined any more."

"I'd manage it somehow," Blaise assured her, earning a small smile from Hermione.

They were quiet for a moment before Hermione spoke.

"I was young then, so even if I did like him then, it means nothing now. I didn't know what he was like." She said defensively.

Blaise merely nodded. "He's not like that now though. He's grown up a bit."

Hermione gave him a withering look. "He hasn't changed at all, he even said so himself."

"No, he hasn't changed, but he always had the ability to be remotely decent when he wanted to, he just never chose to use it. Now he is, though. Wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione looked far away in thought for a moment, before merely shrugging, not answering his question either way, not that Blaise was really expecting anything from her anyway.

"Shouldn't you get back to Longbottom?" Blaise asked after a moment, realising they'd been talking for quite a while, and he was probably waiting for her.

He seemed to have pulled her from some deep thought, because she turned to him with a dazed expression on her face, almost as if she'd forgotten he was there. "Huh? Oh, no. Neville left before I came over here. He's got work to do in the greenhouses."

Blaise nodded. "You're friends with Ginny too now, aren't you?"

Hermione gave a one shouldered shrug. "She's nice, given who she's related to. I could learn a few things from her. She seems to hate you're friends as much as I do, which is a relief."

Blaise gave her an odd look. "She hates Draco?"

Hermione gave him a similar look back. "Obviously. Didn't he use her or something? I suppose you'd know more than I do."

That was a lie. Hermione had heard Blaise and Ginny's conversation in the library, and she knew the gist of what had happened between Draco and Ginny, not to mention Ginny's suspicions on the matter. It was one of the reasons she was so surprised when Ginny had approached her and began talking to her in a friendly manner.

If anything, she thought Ginny would hate _her_, not Draco. Though Hermione was still refusing to believe that he had a liking for her, despite the fact that it was getting harder and harder to ignore the signs...

"Yea I suppose," Blaise agreed, pulling her from her thoughts.

Blaise was curious about the reason Ginny had approached Hermione, and he knew Draco was worried about it too. Blaise had a feeling her intentions weren't as pure as she made them out to be.

"The game must be finished," Hermione commented, looking out the window. Blaise followed her gaze, and noticed that many groups of students were walking on the lawn below back toward the castle.

"Wonder who won?" Blaise asked, watching the scene mindlessly.

"I'd say Ravenclaw," Hermione said stifling a laugh, "Luna's looking awfully pleased."

Blaise's stomach flipped at the name, and sure enough when he looked down from the window he saw Luna skipping along happily, wearing a giant hat with a squawking eagle on top. People were giving her odd looks as she passed, and Blaise couldn't help but smile at her antics.

"That doesn't mean Ravenclaw won," he commented amusedly, "she's that happy all the time."

Hermione merely shook her head with a smile.

"I should probably go anyway," she said, picking up her book bag from the floor, "I skipped breakfast this morning and I'm starved."

She smiled sheepishly, and turned to leave, only to run into the solid obstacle of Draco Malfoy's chest. Both boys watched in amusement as she extracted herself from his body awkwardly, the blush on her cheeks only causing a smug look to appear on Draco's face.

"Hello, Granger," he greeted, looking down at her with a smirk adorning his face. Blaise shook his head at his friend's expression; he practically had a twinkle in his eye.

"Hello," she replied slightly breathless, before stepping around him, "Goodbye."

With that, she'd disappeared behind a shelf and a few seconds later they heard the library doors open and close. Draco, who'd watched her leave, turned back to Blaise with a shit-eating grin spread across his face.

"Did you hear that? She said 'hello'," the blond said, before taking the seat across from Blaise, and leaning back casually.

Blaise scoffed. "I think she was far too dazed to realise what she was doing," he commented, chuckling slightly.

"I do tend to have that affect on girls," Draco said, without a hint of modesty. He turned to look out the window, and that's when Blaise saw the pink hand print across his left cheek.

"I can see that," Blaise commented sarcastically, motioning towards the injury, "Who was it this time?"

Draco sighed, shaking his head in frustration. "Ginny."

Blaise's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? What did you do to earn such a lovely greeting from her?"

Draco shrugged, looking sheepish. "I may have confronted her slightly about why she was talking to Hermione. Needless to say, it may have come out as more of a threat then I intended it too..."

Blaise sighed, giving his friend a withering look. He had no doubt that Draco had intended to threaten the girl.

"Alright, alright. I may have told her to stay away from Hermione...and some other things. But you can't say you aren't suspicious either, mate. Since when did Ginny even look twice at her?"

Blaise nodded. "I do admit it's suspicious. But do you think Ginny's that bitter? I mean, maybe her and Hermione just got to talking?"

"I bet they did," Draco spat. "I think Ginny's trying to keep her away from me. She's probably whispering all kinds of lies in Hermione's ear as we speak."

Blaise shook his head. "No. I was just talking to Hermione about it. As far as I know, all Ginny said is that you used her."

Draco scoffed, leaning forward, interlocking his fingers in front of him. "Yeah, to piss you off for being a wanker."

"That does still count as using her." Blaise informed his friend.

"Yes, but it's not like I treated her horribly," Draco argued, "I even had the decency to break up with her face to face. Normally I'd just let her catch me snogging someone else."

Blaise rolled his eyes at his friend, before shrugging again. "I dunno, mate. There isn't really much you can do. If Ginny wants to turn her against you, and if Hermione wants to believe it, then it's sort of out of your hands."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "No way am I going to let her ruin the progress I've made. You saw Hermione before; she started blushing and practically fainted when she saw me. I'm not going to let Ginny ruin that."

Blaise noticed the threat in his friend's eyes, and knew that he would stick to his word. He only hoped Ginny Weasley had more sense than to cross him.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Draco began suddenly, "I ran into McGonagall on my way here. She said we've got detention all day tomorrow, which means no Hogsmeade."

Blaise cursed in frustration. "Great. Sounds like it'll be a fun day." He spat sarcastically.

"Aye," agreed Draco with about as much enthusiasm as Blaise. "Anyway, let's get out of here. I'm starving."

He stood and began to head toward the exit. Blaise gathered his things and caught up moments later.

* * *

><p>When they reached the entrance hall several minutes later, they both saw the fiery hair of Ginny Weasley as she passed by in front of them. She seemed to notice them too, and as she passed she sent Draco a menacing smirk that said 'just watch what I'm capable of'.<p>

They followed her as she slipped into the Great Hall. Both boys paused to watch her stroll over to the Gryffindor table and slip into a seat beside Hermione. Blaise heard Draco swear under his breath, as Ginny sent him another smirk that told him he should regret ever crossing her. Blaise was sure he did.

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table spooning copious amounts of food onto her plate. She was absolutely starved, and was also trying to eat as fast as she could so she could go back to the library. She'd just stuffed half a potato in her mouth when Ginny slid into the seat beside her and eyed her with an amused expression.

"Bit hungry?" She asked, smiling.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but realised it was full of far too much potato. She merely nodded instead.

Ginny laughed. "So, I didn't see you at the game?" She questioned, spooning food onto her own plate.

Hermione swallowed and shrugged. "I'm not really into Quidditch. I was in the library all morning."

Ginny stared at her with a shocked expression. "You don't like Quidditch?" She questioned.

Hermione felt slightly embarrassed but shrugged again. "It's alright I suppose. But I just never got into it that much."

Ginny nodded. "Right. I suppose it's hard for me to understand that, considering I've grown up playing it my whole life, and I play Seeker now."

"Yea," Hermione agreed, "So how was the game anyway?" She asked, spooning another fork full of food into her mouth. Though she wasn't really that interested in the results of Quidditch, she figured she should try to make conversation.

Ginny shrugged, while spearing a potato with her fork. "Ravenclaw won, which isn't really a surprise. Though Hufflepuff did their best to hold them off for a bit."

"Oh. I suppose Hopkins isn't going to be too happy about that." Hermione mused. She looked around; Hopkins wasn't at the Hufflepuff table.

"Hopkins?" Ginny questioned. Hermione didn't miss the mischievous edge to her voice.

"Yes," Hermione said innocently, "he's a friend. Well, not really. He sort of is, I suppose. He sits next to me in Ancient Runes sometimes."

"Is that so?" Ginny asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the girl's insinuation.

"It's not like that," she insisted, "we're purely friends."

Ginny gave her a disbelieving look. "So he's never tried anything? Or even asked you out?"

Hermione didn't answer. Instead she stuffed some food in her mouth and looked the other way.

Ginny chuckled. "Friends, my ass." She commented smugly.

Hermione sighed. "I don't like him. I've already told him that."

Ginny gave her a look of outrage. "Hopkins is hot, Hermione! A lot of girls would kill to have him ask them out."

Hermione huffed impatiently. "Yes, but I'm not a lot of girls." She said stiffly, turning back to her food. She could see Ginny staring at her out of the corner of her eye.

"Are you sure that's all it is?" The red head inquired.

Hermione gave her a confused look. "I'm not sure what you're talking about." She said stuffing her fork in her mouth.

Ginny sighed, before looking around to ensure no one else was listening. "I'm talking about Draco. Do you like him?"

Her question caught Hermione off guard, and she choked on her food for a moment before taking a swig of pumpkin juice. Ginny watched her, amused.

"I don't like _him_!" Hermione hissed, her eyes wandering across the room. She regretted it immediately.

Across the room Blaise and Draco had been watching the conversation between the girls with interest; in fact Blaise was certain Draco had not taken his eyes off them the whole time they'd been here.

They'd seen Hermione practically have a heart attack at something Ginny had said, and had wondered why Hermione's gaze had fallen on them, only to realise they were watching her, which caused her to turn away quickly looking extremely flushed.

Now, Ginny was leaning toward Hermione whispering something in her ear which was causing the other girl to display a range of emotions on her face. Shock, outrage, and disgust, were some of the more prominent ones. Blaise wasn't the only one who could sense this was clearly not a good thing.

"How much do you wanna bet that it's me they're talking about?" Draco muttered, his voice filled with anger.

Blaise looked at him to see his friends eyes were narrowed on the two talking girls. Blaise knew there was no doubt they were talking about Draco, especially since Hermione was not exactly being covert with the glances she was shooting his direction every now and then.

Blaise patted his friend on the back. "Sorry, mate." He said. He wasn't exactly sure what else to say.

Draco turned to him for the first time since they'd sat down, his eyes glittering with anger and threat. "No, _she'll_ be sorry."

* * *

><p>And so that night after dinner, the boys waited in an empty corridor for Ginny and Hermione to walk past. They heard footsteps coming down the corridor and the distinct sound of girl's laughter. Blaise peeked around the corner and saw that it was in fact Hermione and Ginny at the other end of the corridor.<p>

He turned back to Draco, "How are you going to get Ginny alone?" he whispered, "You're not going to do anything too bad are you?" he asked hesitantly.

"No." Draco assured him, "Now, you go out there and get Hermione alone somehow. Ask to talk about an assignment or something. Make sure Ginny leaves this way though."

Blaise nodded and was about to step out when he saw someone else turn into the corridor behind the girls. He ducked back behind the corner he and Draco were hiding, much to the confusion of the latter.

"What are you doing?" Draco hissed at him. Blaise peeked around the corner and saw who it was that had so rudely interrupted their plans.

"It's Wayne Hopkins," he whispered, "he's talking to them."

Draco furrowed his brow, before pushing in front of Blaise to peek around the corner.

"Bloody Hopkins, can't he take a fucking hint?" Blaise heard Draco mutter.

Blaise was merely wondering why Hopkins was once again going after Hermione. He'd have to have words with the Hufflepuff.

They both stood quietly in an attempt to overhear the conversation between the three teens in the corridor.

"It's a real shame you couldn't make it to the game," Blaise heard Hopkins say, presumably to Hermione.

"Yea, I'm sorry I missed it. I just had a lot of homework." She answered in return. Blaise could imagine her shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

Draco snorted. "Did he want her to see him lose that badly?"

Blaise smirked, before they both went silent again to hear the rest of the conversation.

"So anyway," Hopkins began, sounding rather nervous Blaise thought curiously, "I was actually thinking, well you know how it's the Hogsmeade trip tomorrow?"

There was silence, but they assumed Hermione nodded.

"Well I was thinking, if you aren't busy or anything, if you'd like to come with me?"

Blaise saw Draco tense in front of him. They waited in crackling silence for Hermione's response.

"Oh," Hermione began nervously, "Um, I actually-,"

"She'd love to," Ginny interrupted swiftly, "Wouldn't you, _Hermione_?" She emphasised her name, almost giving her a verbal kick of encouragement.

"Um, well-," Hermione began, but was once again cut off by Ginny.

"She's just shy, Wayne," Ginny assured the boy, "Really, she'd love to go."

"Uh, ok," Hopkins agreed, sounding uncertain, "I'll meet you in the entrance hall tomorrow morning then?"

"Sure," Ginny once again spoke for her.

"Um, alright," Hopkins said, again sounding uncertain, "I'll see you then, Hermione. Cya, Ginny."

"Bye!" Ginny called to him. Blaise heard the sound of his footsteps fading as he left. He spared a look at Draco. The saying 'if looks could kill' came to mind. He was sure Ginny wouldn't be dead on the floor.

"If you're so keen, why don't _you_ go out with him!" They heard Hermione hiss after a moment.

"Because I'm not the one he fancies," Ginny said, plainly, "besides, I'm doing you a favour."

They heard Hermione scoff. "How is forcing me to go out with someone I have _no_ interest in 'doing me a favour'?" She asked incredulously.

At least Hermione's assurance at her lack of interest had Draco relaxing slightly.

Ginny sighed loudly. "Look Hermione, even if you don't like him, you should give him a chance. He's a nice guy, unlike some _other_ people."

"Why do you keep assuming that I like Malfoy?" Hermione asked, sounding thoroughly tired.

Blaise saw Draco straighten up in front of him, seemingly very interested in where the conversation was headed.

"Because Hermione," Ginny began, her voice had a whiny element to it, "he has some weird obsession with you, and he's always hanging about. It's only a matter of time before you start thinking about him more, wondering what he's playing at, and before you know it he's taken over your thoughts, and eventually, you're heart."

Hermione was silent, and Ginny continued. Blaise heard Draco scoff.

"You might not even realise it's happening. But one day he might come to you saying all these nice things and you'll fall for it, because you've spent too much time thinking about him, changing reality into petty fantasies that aren't really him. I don't want you to make the same mistake I did. He's not a nice person. He used me, you heard what I told you about him before; he's completely heartless."

Blaise saw Draco begin to shake with anger, he placed a hand on his friends shoulder not only to try and calm him slightly, but to also make sure he could hold him back if he went to confront the girl.

"And, I hate to bring this up," Ginny continued, "But given, well, your blood status, he might be ten times worse to you. He already treated you horribly because of it; I think he's finding another way to hurt you. I think if you occupy your thoughts with someone else, then there's less chance of you going through what I had too."

Blaise heard Hermione sigh. "I don't know, Ginny. I don't like Hopkins. I think you're overreacting. I'm not going to get hurt by Malfoy."

"I know we haven't been friends for long, Hermione, but I always admired you, the way you took all that crap from my brother and his friends, and still managed to get on with things. I don't want you to be another notch on his belt. You'd be the crown jewel. Imagine if he could go around saying he managed to bed the girl he tortured for 5 years? It may sound ridiculous, but it's something he'd do."

"Bullshit," Blaise heard Draco mutter angrily.

There was a moment of silence, before Hermione sighed in resignation. "Alright. I'll go out with him, but just this once. And for the record, Malfoy isn't going to do that. I don't think he'd waste his time on a mudblood, anyway." She said bitterly.

Ginny seemed to perk up at this. "Great! I think you should go and find Wayne though, and assure him that you really _do_ want to go out with him. You didn't exactly sound enthusiastic before."

Hermione sighed again. "Fine," she said. Blaise heard the sound of two pairs of footsteps, one getting closer, and one getting more distant.

After a moment, Draco motioned for him to follow, and they both stepped out from the corridor to find themselves face to face with Ginny. She jumped in surprise at their sudden appearance, but as soon as that passed she'd narrowed her eyes at them.

"What do you want?" She asked suspiciously, before turning to look at where they'd just emerged from, "Were you _eaves dropping_?"

"Perhaps we were," Draco said lightly, though there was a hint of threat in his tone, "I assure you, Weasley, it was one of the most informative conversations I've heard in a while."

Ginny crossed her arms. "You're so bloody obsessed with her, it's creepy." She said, laughing at him.

This was not one of her best moves. Blaise watched as Draco's cheeks reddened and his face contorted to one of pure rage. He stepped forward and pushed Ginny against the stone wall, towering over her menacingly.

"What did I tell you today, Weasley?" he hissed down at her. She visibly swallowed.

"Not to talk to her. But did you think I'd actually listen?" She scoffed. Blaise had to hand it to her; she was playing the confident act well, even though he knew she was extremely frightened. He didn't blame her.

"I thought you'd be smart enough too, but I suppose you're jealous that I might be more interested in her than I was with you to actually listen." Draco spat.

Ginny laughed wryly. "You really have an ego, don't you? This has nothing to do with that. I just think it's fun to ruin your chances with her before you even get any. She doesn't deserve to be hurt, and after what I've told her she won't be going _anywhere near you_." Ginny said, emphasising her last words.

Draco slammed his palm down on the stone wall beside her head. The sound and the close proximity made Ginny jump slightly. At this point, with Draco radiating with anger and scowling at her, she was outwardly looking nervous.

"You've made a very big mistake, Weasley." Draco said, in a low, dangerous voice. "I told you you'd pay if you didn't listen to me. So come on. I'm going to show you what happens when you cross me."

He gripped her upper arm tightly and began dragging her up the stairs. Ginny didn't struggle much, but merely hissed threats.

"If you do anything, I'll tell my brother!"

Draco merely chuckled at this. Blaise couldn't help but think that it wasn't much of a threat.

When they got to the fifth floor several minutes later, Ginny was becoming more hysterical.

"Silencio." Draco muttered, effectively silencing the girl, before he turned to Blaise. "You wait out here and make sure no one comes."

Blaise merely nodded, before looking at Ginny with slight concern. "You're not going to do anything too bad, are you?" he asked his friend.

Draco shook his head. "Nah, nothing Granger hasn't experienced before. Ginny here's just going to have a little bath. Aren't you Gin-Gin?" he cooed, with a menacing smirk on his face.

She turned to him, her mouth opening and closing in what Blaise could only assume were a string of insults and swear words.

"Shouldn't be too long," Draco said, turning and heading down the corridor toward the Prefects bathroom, dragging the red head behind him. Blaise watched them disappear, before leaning against the stone wall and waiting.

He felt slightly guilty for allowing Ginny to be dunked in the Prefects bath, but a part of him, the part that was the reason he was in Slytherin, told him she deserved it. After all, she was purposely getting in the way of Draco, and anyone knew that was a bad idea.

Ten minutes later, he stood off the wall at the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. Draco was looking awfully smug, and was dragging a completely drenched, shivering, and absolutely furious Ginny behind him.

"Anyone pass by?" Draco asked him, coming to stand a few feet away, still holding the struggling girl.

Blaise shook his head. "Not a soul."

"Good," the blond said, before turning to Ginny and flicking his wand, removing the silencing charm, "Now, Weasley, have you learnt your lesson? Or do I need to take you for another dip?"

She glared at him, her teeth chattering. "I've l-l-learnt my l-l-lesson." She hissed, in between shivers.

"Good." Draco said again, "Now, go." He pushed her forward toward the staircase, before sighing.

Ginny sent Draco one last dirty look before she ran off, no doubt desperate to get into the warmth of her common room.

Despite his success at scaring Ginny into submission, Blaise noticed that Draco did not look any happier. They made it to the end of the corridor and stepped onto the fifth floor landing, headed down to the dungeons.

"I can't believe she agreed to go out with that stupid bloody Hufflepuff." Draco muttered, as they walked down the stairs.

"She hardly agreed to it," Blaise assured him, "Ginny practically pushed her into it."

This didn't seem to appease Draco at all. "She could've said no."

Blaise shrugged. "I suppose. But it's only recently she's started sticking up for herself, and Ginny is the first female friend she's really had. I'm sure she's just doesn't want to ruin things already by disregarding her advice."

Draco scoffed. "I think I prefer Longbottom as her friend, and that's saying something."

Blaise snickered as they continued down the staircase; Draco did not seem to find it amusing at all.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Blaise awoke earlier than he usually would on a Sunday morning. Around him were the snores and heavy breathing of his roommates, he resisted the temptation to suffocate Goyle with his pillow, as he was the loudest of the lot.<p>

Blaise suddenly remembered that it was a Hogsmeade day; this seemed to perk him up a bit, considering his initial mood. Unfortunately, he quickly remembered that he had detention and would not even be stepping foot into Hogsmeade, which caused him to slump back on his mattress miserably.

He heard the bed across the room creak, and sat up to see Draco in a similar position, looking just as miserable as him.

"Why did we ever have to skip Transfiguration?" Draco whined, as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Blaise narrowed his eyes at him. "It was your bloody idea, you git."

"_You_ agreed!" Draco argued loudly.

"Would you _shut up_?" Weasley's muffled voice called tiredly from his bed.

Blaise and Draco shared a look, before they both pelted their pillows at the red head, causing him to yelp in surprise and fall off his bed. Both felt slightly better about the morning after that.

Once they were dressed and ready for the day, though they were both still yawning, they headed through the Entrance hall, staring jealously at those who were being signed out to Hogsmeade already, and headed upstairs to the Transfiguration classroom to sit their detention.

Halfway there, Draco stopped suddenly and turned to his friend. "I'll meet you up there in a sec," he assured the Italian, who was eyeing him curiously.

"Yea, alright," agreed Blaise, and he watched suspiciously as Draco headed back down the corridor. After a moment he merely shrugged and continued walking.

Once Blaise had reached the Transfiguration classroom he slipped inside and took a seat at the back. He waited for what felt like an excruciating amount of time, until eventually the sound of the door opening and closing drew his attention to a stern looking Professor McGonagall.

She eyed Blaise, and then the empty room.

"Does Mr Malfoy think he can merely skip my detention?" She asked in an authoritative voice.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon," Blaise assured her, but in his mind he was mentally cursing his friend for leaving him there.

It was only when McGonagall began to instruct him on his punishment that a very dishevelled looking Draco slipped through the door. Blaise eyed him curiously as he sat in a seat nowhere near him, and seemed to look extremely nervous.

"It's nice of you to finally join us, Malfoy," McGonagall said in a strict voice filled with sarcasm.

"S-sorry Professor, I had to use the bathroom." Blaise noticed his voice was shaky. Since when was Draco scared of Professor McGonagall?

The professor merely ignored his excuse and continued on.

"As I was saying, you will write lines here until I come back," she said looking between them, "then I will find something else for you to do. You will not use magic, and you will not leave this room until I instruct you to do so. I'm sure that will teach you not to skip any of my lessons in the future."

After they were instructed what to write, they pulled out a quill, ink and a sheet of parchment and got to it. After a couple of minutes of watching over them to ensure they actually began their work, McGonagall left them to it. As soon as the door closed, Blaise threw down his quill and turned to the boy next to him.

"You're not Draco are you?" He accused the blond. The boy in question jumped and turned to him with wide eyes, before he shook his head.

Blaise sighed in frustration. "Who are you then?"

"Benji Williams, second year Hufflepuff." He said in a quiet voice.

"And what did Draco say to you?" Blaise asked, feeling himself getting more and more annoyed by the minute.

"He just offered me five galleons to take this potion every hour," he pulled a flask out his robe pocket, "and sit in for his detention."

Blaise was pissed. No doubt Draco had gone to Hogsmeade to spy on Hermione and Hopkins. But how would he get out of the castle?

It suddenly dawned on him. When Blaise had exited the bathroom that morning he'd found Draco standing suspiciously close to Potters trunk. He must've taken the invisibility cloak. No doubt it was in there, those boys never bothered to use it that often.

Blaise was also pissed about the fact that Draco had left him here, doing lines, instead of offering to share his Polyjuice potion so someone could fill in for Blaise.

He slumped back in his seat, leaving the fake Draco to get back to his lines.

"That git." Blaise muttered miserably to himself, before picking up his quill again. He couldn't help but inwardly kick himself for not stealing any Polyjuice potion himself, however.

* * *

><p>Hermione was regretting ever saying 'yes' to Hopkins' Hogsmeade invite. They were currently sitting in the Three Broomsticks, drinking Butterbeer, and discussing Quidditch. Hermione was bored out of her mind, and kept staring past his head in a daydream, ensuring she nodded at regular intervals.<p>

Hopkins was a nice guy, sure he was, but he was just not Hermione's type. She didn't exactly know _what_ her type was, but she knew it wasn't him. Hopkins was the type of guy who wanted a girl that admired him for his Quidditch skills, thought he was the most good-looking guy around, and laughed at all his horrible jokes. In other words, Hermione concluded, he would be better suited to someone like her roommates Lavender Brown or Parvarti Patil.

In fact, now that she mentioned it, those two girls in question were sitting in a booth across the room, sending her jealous looks. Hermione could understand this, she'd heard them mention Hopkins dozens of times, and he was almost mentioned as much as the Silver Marauders were. So why the heck did he ask Hermione out?

Hermione was nothing like the type of girl she knew he wanted. She was bookish, smart to the point of 'know-it-all'-ism, she wasn't blonde, she didn't wear clothes that left nothing to the imagination, she didn't flirt, or hook up, she wasn't popular, or beautiful and she would much rather spend her time alone reading than at a party or getting drunk.

Hermione knew from the moment that she met Hopkins that they were not going to get along well. And the fact that she hadn't gotten a word in once, while he discussed his Quidditch skill with endless enthusiasm only further proved Hermione's point.

Hermione had never had a boyfriend, or gone on a date, or even kissed a guy before (she didn't count Blaise eating her face), but she knew herself enough to know if she was going to do any one of those things, the guy in question would not be like the one sitting in front of her.

Hopkins was so...wholesome. He was the type who would marry young and have three kids to his wife by his late 20's. He'd probably get a desk job in the Ministry, using his charm and confidence to work his way up. His wife would stay home and look after the kids, and have the house clean and tidy and dinner on the table by the time he got home every night.

Hermione grimaced at the thought. Despite the fact that she respected those who would love that sort of life, she did not see herself doing well with someone who wanted those things. It was far too functional for her.

Surprisingly, Hermione, who'd had a fairly normal upbringing, thought she would get along much better with someone who was a little bit off-centre, someone who did not have a functional life, and someone who wanted adventure and would see her as an equal, not as the carer of a bunch of crying children.

Ironically, when Hermione still believed in Prince Charming, and knight in shining armour, she would always imagine them coming to take her away to a place that was magical, and filled with everything she could ever dream of.

Then she'd gotten her Hogwarts letter, and she suddenly felt like maybe her wishes had come true. That somewhere, waiting in this new world, was her Prince Charming ready to take her on adventures and show her what she'd been missing. Back then she still believed the world was good, that people were equal, and that even though she never quite belonged in the Muggle world, she'd fit right in here.

The first time she'd seen the ethereal face and features of Draco Malfoy, his alabaster skin, his silver hair, his stormy eyes, and his angelic face, she immediately became enchanted by him. He was her proof that Prince Charming did exist, and she was convinced he was hers.

She would lie in bed every night convinced that she would marry him one day. He looked so magical, so like everything she had always dreamed her Prince Charming to be.

She would watch him daily; listening to the stories he would tell his friends about flying on broomsticks, about his mansion that sounded more like a castle, about his father who sounded like a king and his mother who sounded so elegant.

She hoped he would notice her one day, but he never did. He would always pass by, surrounded by his friends. He never looked at people, people looked at him.

In the classes they shared, she would try to answer as many questions as she could to try and gain his attention, but she didn't realise she was attracting the wrong sort from him.

She was always topping the class, and she was quite proud of it. She worked diligently on all her assignments, did her homework the day it was assigned, and always made sure to read ahead in her textbooks.

She'd topped the class in their first potions assignment, and that was when he'd looked at her for the first time. It wasn't a look she ever wanted to receive from him though; it was a hate-filled sneer. The smile she'd sent his way, initially, fell from her face and she couldn't for the life of her understand what she'd done.

It wasn't until the insults came that she understood she would never be an equal here. She didn't belong in the Muggle world, and she didn't belong here. That was the age she stopped believing in fairytales, and fantasies. She stopped seeing the world as a wholesome place and started to realise that people weren't as nice as they seem. That was the year she began hating Draco Malfoy.

Thinking back to that time now, Hermione could see how ridiculous and foolish she'd been as a child. It almost amused her that the one person in the Wizarding World she'd admired and longed for so much as a child, turned out to be the one that made her life a living hell.

She shook her head of her thoughts. Why was she thinking of marriage and kids? Why was she even thinking about that blond haired git? Perhaps Ginny was right. Maybe he'd wormed his way inside her head, maybe she hadn't even realised it yet?

Or maybe she was just so bloody bored right now that she was sitting here going through her life story? Yes, that sounded more correct. She shouldn't be thinking about it anyway, she was on a date with someone else and should be giving them her full attention.

Speaking of which, the teen in front of her was staring at her with an odd expression. She tried to get a grip and sent him a small smile.

"Sorry what were you saying?" She asked politely.

"I asked if I was boring you," he said sheepishly, "I've been talking about myself a lot."

Hermione agreed with that but shook her head anyway. "No, no. Really, it was fascinating."

She wasn't exactly sure what exactly was meant to be fascinating, however, Hopkins didn't seem like he believed her anyway.

"How about we take a walk and get some fresh air," he suggested with a smile, "It's getting pretty stuffy in here."

Hermione agreed, knowing that it would be harder to daydream if she risked tripping over a rock. Despite the fact that she wasn't one bit interested in Hopkins, she was determined not to be rude.

They stepped outside the pub into the busy streets of Hogsmeade. Hermione pulled her cloak around her tighter to protect herself from the cold wind. Hopkins seemed to notice and put an arm around her in an attempt to warm her arm more.

Hermione stiffened at the contact, instantly regretting coming outside.

"Shall we go where it's a little less busy?" he asked after a moment.

Hermione, being completely oblivious, did not here the insinuation in his voice, and merely shrugged in agreement.

They walked down street, toward the Shrieking Shack. Hopkins was chatting away merrily, while Hermione tried to relax slightly under the weight of his arm. All she really wanted to do was shrug him off and put some space between them. Perhaps she could pretend to drop something and slip out of his grasp to pick it up?

She didn't get a chance to carry out her plan, however, because Hopkins suddenly hissed in pain and whipped around to look behind them. Hermione stepped back grateful for the space.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, watching his rub his head as he stared around with narrow eyes.

"Someone threw a stone at my head," he said, kneeling down and picking up a stone the size of a grape.

Hermione gave him an odd look. "There's no one around."

He continued to look around suspiciously, but after a moment sighed, and turned back around. Hermione groaned inwardly when he put his arm back around her, pulling her against him once again.

They'd only taken two more steps towards the Shrieking shack when once again Hopkins hissed in pain, and whipped around to glare at the open space behind them.

Hermione had to cover her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. Whoever this 'invisible' rock thrower was, they were doing her a massive favour.

"Who's there?" called Hopkins. His voice was carried by the wind, which only seemed to emphasise how alone they were. Hopkins huffed angrily before turning back around.

"Come on, Hermione." He said, and he continued walking faster toward the Shrieking Shack. Much to her relief this time, he didn't try to put his arm around her.

Once they reached the fence on the outskirts of the Shrieking Shack, Hopkins stopped abruptly and turned to Hermione. He smiled and stepped closer to her. Hermione could sense what was coming.

"You're a really cool girl, Hermione," he said, with a small smile on his face.

"Um, thank you," she said, trying to look anywhere but his face.

"I've had a lot of fun with you today," he continued, "I hope we can do it again sometime."

Really? He had fun? All he did was talk about himself. Hermione almost snorted in amusement at his idea of 'fun', but it was lost in her throat as Hopkins' face came closer and closer and eventually his lips crashed onto hers.

Hermione was effectively trapped between the fence and Hopkins, and was wide eyed wondering how they went from having a conversation to doing _this_.

There was a loud crack, and their lips broke apart as Hopkins once again hissed in pain and whipped around to glare behind them. Hermione took the opportunity to step away and wipe her mouth. That certainly was not how she pictured her first kiss. Well, it wasn't her first, technically, but again she didn't count that horrible moment with Blaise, and she most likely wouldn't count this horrible moment either.

Hopkins had his wand out pointing it around at nothing in particular.

"Who's there?" he called, "Come out, you wanker!"

No one appeared, but from a spot within the clearing another stone flew toward Hopkins and hit him square in the forehead. He growled in anger, and began cursing at the invisible person, threatening all sorts of things.

Hermione watched him, amused, trying not to laugh at how odd he looked hissing threats into thin air.

Another stone was thrown. Then another, and another. Then it was a tripping jinx that sent Hopkins falling on his back to the ground.

By this point Hermione was starting to wonder who was actually doing all this rock throwing and hexing. She couldn't see anyone hiding and she couldn't see the direction the stones were coming from. It was as if the person really was invisible, but Hermione knew the only spell that allowed someone to become remotely invisible was a Disillusionment charm, and even that didn't render them this undetectable.

After a moment, it seemed as though whoever it was had given up, and Hopkins stood, brushed his robes off and turned to Hermione. She gave him a weak smile, knowing he probably felt slightly embarrassed at his previous outburst.

"Um, sorry," he said sheepishly, "I'm not sure who's doing that. Probably just one of my mates being a smartass."

Hermione nodded. "Maybe...I should probably get back to the castle now anyway," she said, shifting from foot to foot, desperate to get away, "I was meant to meet Neville for lunch, and I'll probably be late." It was a lie.

"Oh," he said, looking slightly put out, "well, alright. I had fun Hermione."

Hermione sent him one last smile before she turned and let out a deep breath of relief. As soon as she was out of his view she practically ran down the trail toward the castle, wanting to be inside the comfort of her dorm.

Turning a bend in the trail she looked up and saw the castle in sight, and that wasn't the only thing.

Leaning casually against a tree was a very aristocratic looking Draco Malfoy. Hermione stopped mid step as he looked up at her.

Hermione, despite her dislike for the teen, had to admit that the sight of him leaning against the tree, his black robes blowing in the wind, twirling his wand in his fingers, while piercing into her with his stormy gaze was certainly a site for sore eyes.

"Hello, Granger," he said in a silky voice, as he moved away from the tree and closer to her.

Hermione automatically stepped back, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at him.

"What are you doing?" She asked hesitantly. He was staring at her with an odd expression, and it was unnerving her.

His lips quirked slightly. "Just exploring Hogsmeade. Did you have fun on your date?"

Hermione sputtered. "H-how do you know about that?" She asked, barely containing her humiliation. She wasn't exactly sure why she was embarrassed that Malfoy knew she was on a date.

He smirked and took a couple of steps forward. "I hear things." He said vaguely, shrugging.

Hermione scoffed. "I'm not in the mood for your games, Malfoy." She stepped around him and attempted to walk past him, she only got a couple of metres away before he stepped in front of her again.

"What about the kiss? Was it everything you hoped it would be?" he asked in a patronising tone.

Hermione blushed. "How did you know about that?" She asked in a breathless voice. It was even worse that he somehow knew about the kiss.

"I see things." He said, his voice no longer held a teasing tone.

Hermione furrowed her brow at him. "How do you kno-," she paused mid-sentence and stared at him with wide eyes.

"It was you." She accused quietly, before her voice became stronger, "You were the one throwing all those rocks!"

He merely shrugged with a satisfied look on his face. She scowled at him.

"Who do you think you are?" She hissed angrily, "You have no right to spy on me! Are you going to somehow use this against me? Go and tell everyone I was snogging in Hogsmeade or something? You really are foul."

"Are you seriously angry?" he asked half amused. "I just saved you from a good snogging session you clearly didn't want."

She rounded on him. "Why on earth would you care?"

He merely shrugged, not answering. Hermione gave a wry laugh before turning away from him and walking away.

"See, you just don't want me to have a life. You want me to be the pathetic little mudblood that nobody looks twice at and that you can push around whenever you feel like taking your bad mood out on someone. Well nice try, you git, but it doesn't work like that anymore."

She turned around to see the affect her words had on him. He was still standing where she'd left him, watching her with a blank expression. Hermione had no doubt her words had angered him. For a moment, he merely looked her up and down, as if seeing her for the first time. Then he lunged at her.

Hermione had no time to prepare herself for his attack, and was only ready to cry for help, hoping someone returning from Hogsmeade would hear her before he hurt her too much.

She was surprised however when no pain came. The only thing she could feel was sudden warmth cocooning her body; crying for help would be impossible because her lips were covered by the warm soft pair of Draco Malfoy's.

He was _kissing_ her. And boy, was this a kiss.

His kiss was not gentle whatsoever. It was fiery, strong, and possessive, just like him. His arms were holding her so tightly to him she thought he might crush her; his hands were running up and down her back, trying to pull her in closer. His lips were moulding to hers, his tongue trying to gain access to her own. In a moment of insanity, Hermione let him deepen the kiss, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, her hands grabbing the hair at the back of his head. It felt as soft as it looked.

She could felt the adrenaline pulsing through her whole body, making her legs turn to jelly. This was the sort of kiss she'd wanted as her first. This was the type of kiss she saw in those muggle romance movies she watched during her summer holidays, sighing and wishing it would happen to her one day.

This was the type of kiss two people shared when they were so captivated, enthralled, in love with one another that they did not want the moment to end for fear of the other disappearing right in front of them.

And that's when Hermione crashed back to reality. She pushed away from Draco, only to realise he had been holding her up, when she fell on her backside on the ground. She stared up at him in wide eyed shock; he was staring down at her with a similar expression.

After a moment of tense silence, Draco relaxed slightly and smirked down at her. "How was that for a first kiss, Granger?"

She stared back at him in disbelief. This was Draco Malfoy. The bane of her existence; the boy who had tortured her for years. He'd single-handedly made her life hell. He physically and mentally tortured her, and now he was _kissing_ her.

Ginny's words hit home in that moment. The smirk on his face was enough to prove it. He thought he'd gotten her, he thought he'd won whatever little twisted game he was playing with her. She felt her face redden, but it wasn't in embarrassment, it was in anger. Not only at him, but at herself. She'd almost let herself get lost in him; she'd almost did exactly what Ginny warned her about.

Hermione stood and brushed the dirt off the back of her jeans. She looked up at the teen in front of her. He was smiling at her. _That cocky git thinks he's got me. Another notch on his belt._

"Hopkins was my first kiss, not you." She said, without a hint of emotion. Though the words were quite simple, they held a strong meaning. To her they were defiant; to him, however, they were rejection.

The smile on Draco's face faded into nothing, and Hermione was sure she'd imagined the flicker of hurt that went as quickly as it came. Eventually his expression was replaced with a sneer. This was the Draco Malfoy she was used to.

She turned her back on him and began to walk back to the castle, feeling proud of herself for once again not letting him play his petty games.

She could feel his eyes on her as she left, and the sensation made her want to run all the way back. Instead she turned to scowl at him while she continued walking, but paused mid-step.

Where she had thought she would see him glaring after her, all there was nothingness. Just an empty trail, with an invisible wind blowing the branches of the trees around. It was almost as if he'd disappeared right before her eyes.

Hermione tried to ignore the hint of loneliness and regret that washed over her at the sight, and instead turned her back and continued walking as quickly as she could towards the castle, trying to convince herself that perhaps she would feel better once she was in the safety of her dormitory.

**A/N:**

**Hey guys!**

**So they finally kissed! I hope it was an enjoyable scene for you all. I don't want you to think it's going to get all sappy and what not from now on; they've still got a long way to go. I was actually planning on waiting a couple of chapters til the kiss, but in all honesty it felt like the right time for Draco to pounce on her, even if he was slightly shocked himself. Haha**

**I had a couple of comments about Ginny last time that i thought I should talk about. A few people thought she was cooking up some evil plan, and initially that's what I was going to do, but I decided against it. As it explains in this chapter, she is merely trying to stop Hermione from making the same mistake she did, and in the process she's getting a little revenge on Draco. But overall, her intentions to Hermione are pure, and she's not trying to use her to get Draco back or anything like that.**

**Anyway, I'm going to try and start writing the next chapter soon. I've got a couple of assignments right now, and a lot of reading to do for uni, so it might be a little longer to get up *sigh***

**Next chapter will hopefully have some of every character, especially Luna since we haven't heard from her for a while.**

**Anyway, guys. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks everyone who left reviews and signed up for alerts and stuff, it means alot **

**Cheers, Leni.**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 10_**

_...in which progress is made._

* * *

><p>Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not a large school, nor was it a school with a student body who knew to disregard rumours and gossip, despite the lack of truth in them. This is what had Hermione Granger hiding in the girls' bathroom at Monday lunchtime, reading a book and listening to the sound of Moaning Myrtle gurgling in the adjacent toilet stall.<p>

Hermione had thought, or at least hoped, that perhaps her little Hogsmeade rendezvous with Hopkins would go under the radar. Unfortunately for her, she was wrong. There were rumours flying around the castle that she'd not only snogged Hopkins, but that they'd snuck into the Shrieking Shack for a little 'private time'. Though that was not the term many gossiping people were using to describe it.

Hermione sighed, leaning back against the wall of the cubicle. When she'd returned from Hogsmeade the previous day, she'd been completely flustered and moody after her..._run in_ with Malfoy.

When Ginny had found her to discuss the aspects of her date, Hermione had not been in the mood to discuss Hopkins at all. She had been far too busy planning the different ways in which she would hex Draco Malfoy into oblivion, that she hadn't even heard Ginny enter her dorm.

"So did you kiss him?" The red head had asked, sitting at the end of Hermione's bed.

Hermione's thoughts had automatically gone to Malfoy. "What? Who? No. Why would you think that?" She'd said a little too fast, her voice had been filled with panic. Looking back now Hermione was surprised Ginny hadn't caught on straight away.

The younger girl had just given her an odd look, before shaking her head in disbelief. "Hopkins, of course!" She had exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.

Hermione had relaxed slightly, though the topic of Hopkins was one she'd wanted to discuss just as much as Malfoy. In other words, not at all.

"No," she'd lied, trying to sound as convincing as possible, "we didn't kiss."

Technically it wasn't a _complete_ lie. Hermione had always been very specific about things, and to her the 'kiss' Hopkins gave her, shouldn't even be included in the definition of 'kiss'. What Hermione considered a kiss wasn't just two lips connecting, but actually participating and enjoying it. If she considered what her and Hopkins did as 'kissing' then she would also say she'd kissed Blaise Zabini that one night he'd attacked her face while he was intoxicated. No; those were not kisses.

Hermione had not enjoyed Hopkins' 'kiss'. At all. He'd merely smooshed his face against hers while she was unprepared, and if she had been prepared she would have made some excuse to escape before he had a chance. Unfortunately for her, that chance had never come; and she hated to think that it was only with the help of Malfoy that she'd managed to get away.

Malfoy. Now that was what she considered a kiss, though she would never admit it to him, or anyone else, or even _herself_ for that matter. She'd told him Hopkins was her first real kiss, not him, but that was a blatant lie. For what she considered kissing, which definitely wasn't Hopkins or Blaise Zabini, Draco was the first and, unfortunately, the best kiss of her life.

It was unfortunate because at intervals when her mind should be occupied by homework, or reading, she found herself drifting off into the memory of that kiss. Every time she caught herself, she wanted to bang her head against her desk, or the wall, or really just the closest solid object she could find. She despised the fact that she was thinking those sorts of thoughts about Malfoy, especially when she was determined to hate him.

She thought back to what she had said to him after their kiss. Despite the fact that she didn't count Hopkins kiss as her first, or even a kiss at all, she refused to let Draco Malfoy think he had that title. It was just ludicrous to think that the boy, who had bullied and heckled her for years, would be her first kiss. It wasn't supposed to happen that way, and Hermione refused to let him take that title along with the confidence, self esteem, and self worth he took from her over the years.

No. As far as Malfoy was concerned, she loved every millisecond of her kiss with Hopkins (which was not saying much since it only lasted about two seconds) and for all he would know, his kiss meant nothing to her. Nothing at all.

Unfortunately for Hermione, deep down in the part of her mind that she refused to acknowledge, she knew that was not the case at all.

She heard the bell outside ring, signalling her next class. With a sigh, she closed her book, picked up her book bag, and prepared for another hour surrounded by stares, whispers and dirty looks.

She exited the bathroom and was immediately hounded by a girl. She sighed in relief when she turned around and realised it was only Ginny, though the look she was giving her was reminiscent of Professor McGonagall on a bad day.

"Where have you been all day?" She questioned impatiently, as they walked along the corridor, "You weren't at breakfast or lunch. Have you heard the rumours that are going around?"

Hermione gave her a withering look, "Why do you think I've been hiding out in the bathroom all day?"

"Oh. So that's where you were. Well anyway, everyone's saying you, well, shagged Hopkins."

Hermione scoffed. "I most certainly did _not_ shag Hopkins."

"I know, but when he was asked, he did say you kissed." Ginny said, trying to sound casual. Hermione knew she was dying to know the details, even though Hermione had already tried to convince her that they hadn't.

Hermione shook her head, a small smile on her face. She wanted to tell Ginny the truth, but in all honesty, she would prefer to not have everyone know, or anyone at all really. "Well we didn't."

She heard Ginny sigh in defeat. "Alright. I'll see you later, Hermione."

With that both girls parted ways, and Hermione took a deep calming breath before she continued through the crowd of whispers to her first class.

The only positive thing that she could think of right now was that at least they didn't know about her kiss with Malfoy, if they did she was certain she'd be getting more than dirty looks. She sighed as she sat in her desk in History of Magic; around her people were openly staring and whispering. She tried to ignore it the best she could.

* * *

><p>Luckily for her she wasn't the only one having a rough morning. Blaise sat next to Draco in Transfiguration, and he may as well have been sitting next to a ticking time bomb. He saw Draco scowl at a girl who was whispering about Hermione. It effectively silenced her.<p>

Blaise couldn't help but be amused. "You don't actually believe those rumours do you?"

"Course not." Draco muttered.

"Then what's the problem? You've been a right foul git since you got back yesterday."

When Blaise had returned to his dorm, tired and snarky form his detention, he'd found Draco lying on his bed, glaring at the ceiling. He wouldn't let Blaise know what had happened, but eventually he just said he saw Granger and Hopkins kissing. Blaise wasn't sure if that was all that was wrong, but he'd let the subject drop for the night. Now, however, it was impossible to ignore.

He glanced at Draco and saw the teen staring back at him with a look of painful contemplation on his face. Eventually, Draco looked away and shook his head fervently. "I can't tell you. It's too bloody horrible."

Blaise's interest was definitely piqued. "Come on, mate." Blaise whined, "You didn't catch them doing more than kissing did you?"

Draco scoffed. "It's Granger we're talking about here, Zabini. And no, I just did something stupid."

Blaise sat back in his seat, a look of trepidation adorning his face. "You attacked her again didn't you?" he asked tiredly.

Draco sighed, looking completely miserable. "Not in the way you're thinking."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. Draco looked around swiftly to make sure no one was listening, before leaning toward Blaise and whispering. "I kissed her."

Blaise stared at his friend in shock for a moment, before a sly grin slowly made its way onto his face. He chuckled.

"I knew it was a matter of time before you cracked," he said, barely containing his mirth. Draco sent him a scowl.

"Yea, well now she hates me even more than before, doesn't she?" Draco muttered, looking miserable.

"You sure about that? She's probably thinking about it right now." Blaise said, wiggling his eyebrows slyly. Draco merely scoffed and turned away.

Blaise was still highly amused at the situation. "I can't believe you actually kissed Granger." He mused, with a smirk on his face.

"Would you _shut up_?" Draco hissed next to him, "The last thing I need is the whole school finding out about it."

Blaise merely rolled his eyes, but continued smirking to himself. He was very keen to see Hermione and see how she was reacting to Draco's unexpected affection. He suddenly realised that he hadn't seen her all day.

"Have you even seen Granger today?" Blaise questioned Draco suddenly.

Draco thought for a moment before shaking his head. "I haven't. But that's no real surprise, she's probably avoiding me."

Blaise thought this might be the case, but even if she was, he hadn't seen her either. They hadn't had potions today, and that was the only class they shared, but he hadn't seen her at breakfast or at lunch. Maybe she was ill? Maybe she really was avoiding Draco? Blaise wanted to find out.

After classes finished that day, and everyone made their way back to their common rooms, Blaise loitered on the staircase waiting for Hermione to come back from whatever class she'd had. Unfortunately for him, when the last few students finished climbing the staircase, Hermione was nowhere to be found. He sighed in frustration, where could she possibly be?

He began to make his way down the stairs when he saw Ginny making her way up with a few Gryffindors in her year. The group stopped when they saw Blaise approaching, many of the girls began whispering excitedly and blushing, Ginny merely sighed and crossed her arms, before greeting him ever so politely.

"What do you want Zabini?" She asked rudely. The girls behind her stared at her in shock, obviously wondering why she was being so impolite. Blaise merely smirked.

"What a lovely greeting," he said sarcastically, "I won't keep you long. I'm merely wondering where Granger is."

The girls behind Ginny once again began whispering frantically. Ginny spared them a withering look, before turning back to Blaise.

"And why would I tell you? If she wanted to talk to you, I'm sure she'd come find you. Now excuse me."

The red head stepped past him and continued up the staircase. Blaise scowled at her back. Ever since the incident with Draco and the Prefects bathroom she'd been incredibly rude to him, not that he could blame her, but still he needed to talk to Hermione, and Ginny being stubborn was just getting on his nerves.

He heard someone next to him clear their throat. Looking over, he noticed one of Ginny's friends was still standing on the staircase next to him. When Blaise met the brunettes gaze, she blushed.

"Hermione Granger, she's in the girls' bathroom. The one Moaning Myrtle haunts. I saw her just a few minutes ago." She told him, shyly.

Blaise spared her a smile, which had her blushing so hard she nearly turned purple, before he thanked her and headed in the direction of the bathroom Hermione was hiding in.

After waiting a few moments in the hopes a female would pass, which none did, he merely sighed unable to believe he was about to step into a girls bathroom. He pushed open the door and tentatively poked his head inside.

He looked around taking in the scenery, before he slipped his whole body through the door. He was immediately confronted by a floating brunette ghost with glasses and a small whiny voice.

"What are you doing in here?" She questioned him, "This is a girl's bathroom."

"I'm aware of that," he said, "I'm just here to talk to Hermione."

The ghost huffed. "No one ever comes here to talk to me!"

Blaise ignored her as she flew around the bathroom, wailing loudly, before eventually he heard the splash of her entering the toilet stall at the end. At the same time, he heard one of the toilet doors creak open, and a head of honey curls poke out.

"Blaise, what are you doing in here? This is a girl's bathroom." She scolded, coming to stand a few feet away. He noticed she had her book bag over her shoulder and an open book in her hand.

"I know. I was just informed of that," he said, glancing over at the toilet where an odd gurgling noise was coming from.

Hermione followed his gaze, before sighing. "She's very sensitive." She said, as an explanation.

Blaise nodded. "I can see that." He muttered, before turning back to Hermione. "Have you been hiding in here all day?"

Hermione shuffled on her feet. "Not all day, just during meals. I'm sure you've heard the rumours." She muttered, miserably.

Blaise nodded again. "I have, but you realise hiding away is only going to make things worse."

Hermione sighed, hugging her book to her chest. "I know. I was only going to do it today, just until things die down a bit..."

"So you've been hiding in here of all places? I would've figured you'd find some place better." He said, looking around distastefully, and noticing that the bathroom was becoming rather flooded.

Hermione shrugged. "Not many people come in here, because, well, you know." She finished weakly, inclining her head towards the last stall where Myrtle was gurgling away.

"I see. Look, can we at least get out of here?" he asked disgustedly, holding his robes to prevent them dangling in the water that was currently adorning the floor, "I don't much like the idea of stepping in toilet water."

Hermione laughed before nodding, and they both stepped out the door, much to the relief of Blaise.

"I can see why not many people go in there," he said, as they walked toward the staircase.

Hermione laughed again. "She's not too bad. Just don't mention death and you're fine."

Blaise merely snorted in amusement at this. What kind of ghost was sensitive about death? He wondered how Hermione had spent her day in there without offending the whiny spirit.

"You must be starved." He said after a moment, remembering she hadn't attended any meals that day. Hermione shrugged, but at that moment her stomach grumbled loudly, causing her to blush. He smirked.

"Dinner isn't for a couple of hours, but I have a way we can get in early. Come on." He dragged her to the staircase and all the way down the stairs to the Entrance hall. He was just about to haul her down another corridor when he heard someone call him.

"Zabini!" he turned to see Draco walking toward him, behind him he heard Hermione groan, "Where the bloody hell have you been? I just searched the whole-,"

Draco stopped abruptly when he noticed they weren't alone. He peeked behind Blaise, and straightened up again immediately, a small blush on his cheeks.

"We're just headed to the kitchens, Hermione hasn't eaten all day. Care to join us?" he asked his friend, knowing that deep down Draco would jump at the opportunity to spend time with the Gryffindor.

Hermione shuffled out from behind him, not sparing a glance at Draco. Blaise noticed her cheeks were almost as flushed as the blonds. "You go ahead; I'm really not that hungry."

She made to escape, but Blaise grabbed her robes from behind, effectively reining her in. He barely acknowledged her struggling to get free, as he turned back to Draco. The blond was watching Hermione, Blaise was sure he hadn't blinked once.

"So, you coming?" Blaise questioned his friend. Draco merely shrugged in indifference, still watching Hermione who was now attempting to kick Blaise in the shins.

Blaise turned his attention back to Hermione, "Come on." He said, pushing her down the corridor. He heard the footsteps of Draco echoing closely behind them.

"I hate you for doing this to me." Hermione hissed at Blaise as he pushed her along the corridor. He merely smirked.

"What's the problem?" he said, feigning innocence, "It won't kill you."

"Only because I'm going to kill you first!" She hissed back. Blaise merely chuckled.

Eventually the three of them came to a stop in front of a painting of a large fruit bowl.

"Lovely painting, really, but I should be going." Hermione said, as she turned to escape, running straight into the hard chest of Draco Malfoy. He merely looked down at her with raised eyebrows. Hermione couldn't help but think that she was becoming far too acquainted with that part of his anatomy lately.

Blaise chuckled at the scene, "You know, Granger, if you blush any more I think you might turn purple." He was met with a scowl from Hermione, but he noticed Draco's lips quirk slightly at the comment.

Blaise raised his hand to tickle the pear, and when the door swung open, he heard Hermione gasp behind him. He turned to find her and Draco standing awfully close to each other, with neither of them even realising it.

"What is this place?" Hermione asked with awe, peeking in through the hole.

"Kitchens." She was surprised when Draco answered and even more surprised when she felt his hand on her lower back pushing her through the portrait hole.

Blaise wiggled his eyes at Draco, which earned him a scowl from the teen. He merely shook his head in amusement, before they both stepped into the kitchens after Hermione.

"How did you find this place?" Hermione asked looking around her. House elves were bustling about preparing meals, dished were clanging, and the place smelt delicious.

"Marauders secret," Blaise answered proudly, "passed down through the generations. We've known about it since third year."

They made their way to a bench and sat down. Hermione jumped when she felt a tug at her pant leg, she missed the amused look Blaise and Draco shared at this.

"Can Mipsy help Miss and Misters?" A small house elf squeaked from next to her.

"We'll have three of whatever you're serving for dinner, please Mipsy," Hermione asked kindly. The house elf nodded.

"Right away, Miss, Mipsy is happy to serve." The little elf bustled off, and Hermione watched as the others cleaned and cooked.

"I didn't think Hogwarts had house elves. I wonder if they pay them?" She asked, more to herself than anything. She heard an amused snort from the seat to her left and turned to scowl at Draco.

"Did I say something funny?" she asked hotly. He merely shook his head.

"You obviously don't know much about House elves, Granger. They love to work. They'd probably be offended if you offered them pay."

Hermione bristled at his know-it-all tone. "Well I don't have any House elves, _obviously_. Not all of us are spoilt rotten, not to mention lazy. Some of us can manage to cook and clean ourselves."

Hermione wasn't sure why she was so mad or why she'd berated, not to mention insulted him, but she didn't care. He had kissed her yesterday and he was back to being a rude arrogant git. She thanked the gods that she'd merely brushed the kiss aside or at least that she convinced him and herself that she had.

"Don't assume to know what my home life is like, Granger." Draco hissed. "Why don't you just, for once, accept that you don't know everything? I was merely stating a fact. Try bringing up the issue of pay, and whatnot, and see how they react. Go on."

Draco motioned to a passing house elf. Hermione, in an attempt to prove him wrong, sent him a scowl before turning to the house elf.

"Excuse me?" She called. The house elf squeaked, before turning to her wide eyed.

"Does Miss require Peppy's service? Peppy is happy to help Miss."

"Oh no, thank you. I was actually wondering if you get payed to work?" Hermione enquired.

The house elf looked confused. "Payed? Peppy does not need pay, Peppy enjoys work."

She turned to Draco and saw him shooting her a smug smirk. She narrowed her eyes at him, before turning back to the house elf.

"What about holidays?" She asked impatiently, determined to prove the git across the table wrong.

"Holidays? Peppy doesn't know what Miss is talking about." Peppy said in confusion.

"Holidays are days where you don't work." Hermione explained gently. Peppy looked horrified.

"Not working? Why would Peppy be punished so? Peppy is a good house elf!" Peppy continued to rant frantically for a few minutes, before Hermione managed to calm him down and assure him that he would not be getting any pay or any holidays. He seemed much happier after that, and scampered off to continue preparing dinner for the castles inhabitants.

Hermione turned around, determined not to meet Draco's eyes, but when she heard him clear his throat from nearby. She sighed irritably before turning to him, only to scowl when she saw he was wearing a smug grin. Blaise was looking between the two, amused.

"What?" She asked, irritably. Both boys chuckled.

"Aren't you going to admit that I was right and you were wrong?" Draco asked, smirking at her.

"I'll admit that the day you admit you're an arrogant, egotistical git." She retorted immaturely, feeling rather annoyed at being wrong about something, especially in front of him.

His smile faded for a moment, and she thought she may have pushed him too far, and that he was about to get very angry.

But to her surprise he merely smirked, his eyes twinkling in amusement. Hermione tried to ignore the way her stomach suddenly flipped, playing it off as mere hunger.

"Fair's fair, I suppose," he said in a silky tone, "I, Draco Malfoy, am an arrogant, egotistical git. Your turn."

She stared at him in a mix of shock and awe, before sighing. "I don't know what to say."

He leaned back, looking like he was enjoying this far too much. "Just repeat after me. I, Hermione Granger," he began.

"I, Hermione Granger," she repeated sulkily.

"Was wrong." He finished, smugly.

"Was...wrong," she ground out. She was surprised at how difficult it was to say.

Blaise and Draco both sensed this and chuckled at her. She blushed and scowled, and was all too thankful when a house elf appeared with their food as a welcome distraction. Hermione took her first bite, suddenly realising just how starved she was. She was almost thankful for Blaise dragging her down here.

The boy in question had been watching the tension between Draco and Hermione as they argued. It was incredibly amusing to watch the awkwardness, and he only wished to make it more so.

"So Hermione," Blaise began suddenly, barely containing a smirk, "how was your Hogsmeade weekend?"

He saw Draco tense out of the corner of his eye, and across the room he heard Hermione choke as she sipped on some Pumpkin juice. He looked up innocently to see them both pointedly looking away from each other.

"Well?" he prompted.

Hermione cleared her throat. "It was fine." She said, vaguely.

Blaise nodded. "You went with Hopkins, right?"

She merely nodded. She knew they both heard about the rumours.

"I see. Draco and I were stuck in detention all day. I guarantee you, that wasn't as fun as a day in Hogsmeade could have been." He sighed wistfully, trying hard not to smirk as he saw Draco glaring at him, and Hermione looking suspiciously at Draco.

Blaise had already brought up the Polyjuice situation with Draco, berating him for not allowing him to skip detention too. Draco, in his moodiness, had merely stated that if Blaise didn't have the cunning to steal the Polyjuice Potion they'd prepared in class himself, than it wasn't his problem. Blaise couldn't help but feel like pushing his friend in the deep end now was some sort of pay back.

"Is that so?" Hermione said casually, though she was looking suspiciously at the blonde, "I could've sworn that I saw him."

Blaise smirked. "I bet you did." He muttered, barely holding in a chuckle. He felt Draco kick him under the table.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, leaning forward.

"I said, do you know who you're taking to the Halloween dance?" Blaise lied. He heard Draco let out a relieved breath next to him, but he was now looking at Hermione with interest.

"I'm not sure yet, I might just go alone or maybe with Neville." She said, looking as though she really didn't want to answer those sorts of questions, especially to them.

"I see. Well I'm not sure who I'm taking either," Blaise said, in way of comforting her, "but Malfoy here's taking Pansy."

Draco sent him a scowl as Hermione snorted in amusement. He turned to her, looking far from amused. "Something funny, Granger?"

She chuckled. "Pansy? Have fun with that." She said, sarcastically, taking a bite of food off her fork.

Blaise felt Draco tense next to him. "I didn't choose to go with her, I'm being made too."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I didn't think you'd let anyone tell you what to do? That's the impression I got, anyway."

Draco merely shrugged. "Some things aren't worth fighting over."

The locked eyes for a moment, before looking away just as quickly.

Blaise looked at the clock on the wall and realised that dinner in the hall had just started. He sat his fork down on his empty plate and nodded in thanks as a house elf bustled over to take it away.

"I've got homework," he said, standing, "I'm off."

"Me too," Draco and Hermione said at the same time. They narrowed their eyes at each other before standing.

Blaise noticed Hermione continued to eye Draco suspiciously as they headed out the portrait hole and back into the corridor. They walked quietly into the empty Entrance hall, and Blaise turned to Hermione.

"Don't be a stranger, Granger," he said with a small smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but smiled anyway. "Take it easy, Zabini." She shot back.

Next to them they heard Draco scoff. "Well isn't this heart warming? Greeting in rhymes." He muttered.

Hermione and Blaise shared a smirk. "Don't be a kill-joy, Malfoy." Blaise said, and both he and Hermione began chuckling. Draco shook his head at them before turning toward the Great hall.

"Aren't you coming to the common room?" Blaise asked.

Draco turned and shook his head. "Nah, I'm bored. I'm gonna go make snide remarks about Potter and Weasley's sexuality."

He turned back around, and continued walking. Hermione watched him go, feeling slightly amused that he was going to pick on those two boys. It raised her opinion of him, but only slightly. She suddenly realised she had questions for the blond; questions she didn't want to ask in front of Blaise.

"I'll catch you later, Hermione," Blaise said, before turning and heading down the stairs toward the dungeon.

As soon as he disappeared, Hermione ran toward Draco before he reached the Great hall doors, and effectively pinned him to the wall. He looked at her surprised, before smirking.

"If you wanted another kiss that bad, Granger, you could've just asked."

Hermione scoffed, but felt herself blushing anyway. "What did you tell him?" She asked, suspiciously.

"What did I tell who?" he asked, innocently. She stepped away from him and crossed her arms.

"You know exactly who and what I'm talking about. Blaise and...And, you know, the incident yesterday." She said, feeling her face grow even warmer at the memory of it.

"Oh right," Draco said, as though he'd just remembered, "you mean when you kissed me?"

Hermione sputtered with indignation for a moment, before hissing, "I did not kiss you, you kissed me!"

Draco gave her a knowing look. "Perhaps. But unless you lost one of your precious books in my mouth and were trying to retrieve it with your tongue, then I assure you Granger, you kissed me back."

He leaned back on the wall, hands in pockets, smirking at her. Hermione stared at him, gaping like a gold fish, before managing to compose herself slightly.

"I simply got caught up in the moment." She said weakly. The excuse sounded poor, even to her.

Draco merely raised an eyebrow. "Funny that. I didn't see you getting caught up in the moment with Hopkins." He stated plainly, though Hermione saw a flicker of annoyance cross his expression.

"Probably because someone was throwing rocks at us!" She hissed at him, knowing she'd lost this argument.

He smirked at her, before leaning forward so his mouth was beside her ear. Hermione stiffened at the close proximity.

"You don't fool me, Granger." He whispered, before turning away.

"I know you stole some of the Polyjuice potion we made in class!" She called after him, not wanting to let him have the last word. It worked, because he froze mid step and turned around, his expression slightly wary.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, casually, though Hermione could see how tense he was. She smirked.

"Not so smug now, are you?" She asked, feeling rather pleased with herself.

He raised an eyebrow. "You won't tell anyone." He said, it wasn't a question, just an extremely smug and overconfident statement.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "And why won't I?"

He stepped toward her. "Because you just won't. And you've got no proof anyway."

"Yes I do," she insisted, "I saw you in Hogsmeade. And I know you gave some to Potter or Weasley!"

He looked genuinely confused. "I didn't give any to Potter or Weasley; like I'd waste it on them."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "Well unless it was you that day...?" She trailed off, deep in thought.

That day in the library. The person had been asking about Malfoy. They'd said the word mudblood. Potter and Weasley had never called her a mudblood, the only person that ever had was... Her eyes widened as she stared at him. He was looking back with a hesitant expression.

"It was you." She muttered, "You were the one in the library."

He looked nervous, before smirking, though it was quite shaky. "You honestly think I'd waste my time and potion going and asking you questions about whether you like me or not? Be serious, Granger." He said, chuckling.

Hermione's eyes narrowed further. "If you know nothing about it, how do you know that we talked about that?" She asked, her voice shaking slightly. She was beginning to panic. If it really was him, that meant he knew she had liked him at one point. She felt her cheeks heat up at the thought.

He stared at her, biting his bottom lip slightly, not looking as though he was going to explain himself. Hermione tried not to focus on his mouth and forced herself to stay angry.

"I can't believe you," she hissed. He scoffed.

"Oh come off it, Granger. It was just a bit of fun. I didn't know you were going to spill your bloody heart and soul to me. You're lucky it was me and not Potter or Weasley, otherwise the whole school would know about it by now."

"I'm surprised you didn't tell anyone. You're known for being an ass." She hissed, angrily, though she was more embarrassed than anything.

He chuckled wryly, his expression hardening. "You think I'd want everyone to know you liked me? I have my reputation to uphold, Granger."

Hermione stared after him, as he flung open the doors of the Great hall. She tried to ignore the small amount of hurt she felt at his words, and found herself overcome with anger, though she wasn't sure what about. That night she slept restlessly.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke the next day feeling like she hadn't slept a wink. She stepped into the bathroom of her dorm and stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were framed by dark rings, her hair was messy from her constant tossing, and she just looked miserable.<p>

She'd tried desperately last night to ignore Malfoy's words, but the more she tried, the more she thought on them. It almost made her laugh. For a moment there she had been getting cocky, thinking Draco Malfoy, one of the most attractive guys in the school had possibly liked her.

She felt embarrassed over the amount of time she'd spent thinking of it, of his motives, his reason behind it, when in all honesty he probably just saw her standing there and decided it would be funny. She was annoyed at how quickly she'd let herself believe that she might be something more. More than that, she felt humiliated. She had forgotten just what she was to him: a mudblood. She scowled at the thought of the blond.

This was probably some very well designed game he was playing with her. It unnerved her that she felt too tired to retaliate or fight back. She had spent five years doing that, she didn't want to do it anymore.

She pulled at a loose piece of hair, pouting at the way it barely resembled a curl, and more of strand of straw. She really had been kidding herself.

She heard the door open behind her, and a tired looking Lavender Brown stumbled in. Upon seeing Hermione, her eyes widened with interest and she came to stand next to her in front of the mirror.

"I see you've finally emerged from your hiding spot, Hermione," Lavender commented, as she pulled her makeup bag to her.

"Yes, well, some people were spreading rumours about me," Hermione said, trying not to grit her teeth. The girl was and had always been pompous and arrogant; they'd never gotten along.

Lavender dusted some powder over her face, and then applied some eye shadow and blush. Hermione watched with slight interest, wondering if products like that would help her feel better. She sighed slightly. She wasn't going to pretend.

"I wonder who would do that?" Lavender asked, innocently, in response to Hermione's comment.

Hermione had no doubt Lavender had been one of the people gossiping, so she merely shrugged.

They both brushed their teeth in silence, before brushing through their hair. Hermione noticed that while Lavenders hair stayed in nice ringlets, hers became a mass of frizz.

"You know, Hermione," Lavender began, adding a final touch of lip gloss in the mirror, "Hopkins is never going to ask you to the dance if you don't make an effort with your looks."

In Hermione's head, she imagined herself hexing Lavender Brown; in reality, she took a deep breath and responded haughtily, "Good. I don't plan on going with Hopkins anyway."

Hermione noticed Lavender staring at her with interest. "Really? Well that's good. He probably wouldn't ask you anyway. Why buy the pumpkin when you get the pumpkin juice for free?"

She turned around leaving Hermione alone. Hermione was still staring after her with narrowed eyes. How dare she? Those rumours were ridiculous.

Hermione eyed lavenders tube of lip gloss on the counter. She could hear the girl in the other room, gathering her books together. Hermione was not one for revenge, but Lavender Brown thoroughly deserved it.

Hermione took her wand from her waistband, and waved it quickly toward the tube of lip gloss, muttering a quick spell she'd read about not long ago. She returned her wand to her waistband when she heard lavender re-entering the bathroom.

"Gosh Hermione, are you still not ready?" She asked, before picking up her lip gloss and stuffing it in her robe pocket, "I suppose it would take a long time to do something about that hair, right?"

She smirked before turning and exiting the room once more. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle as she heard the door to their dorm close. Lavender Brown would not be spreading any rumours about her today.

* * *

><p>Blaise stood down in the entrance hall that morning with the rest of the Silver Marauders, sending Draco sympathetic looks. The boy looked angry and miserable. Next to him, Potter and Weasley were smirking and snickering at the blond as he leaned against the wall with an over excited Pansy Parkinson attached to his arm.<p>

"Oh, it'll be so much fun Draco! We have to coordinate our outfits, too. I already know you're a good dancer, you mother was telling mine. Everyone will be staring at us with jealousy."

The girl had been attached to his arm for the past five minutes, prattling on about the dance they were to attend together. Draco hadn't spoken one word, but that didn't curb her enthusiasm on the subject.

Blaise sighed, before looking around the hall. He still hadn't decided who he was taking to the dance. He'd had a few girls flutter their eye lashes his way, but none of them had caught his eye. He knew who he wanted to take, and he had yet to see her.

Luck was on his side however, because as soon as he thought this, his eyes drifted to a spot at the end of the corridor where Luna was standing and looking around above her with a dreamy expression.

He excused himself from his friends, who barely noticed him slip away over the sound of Pansy's whiny voice, and made his way over to where she stood. He raised his hand and flicked her on the back of her head, startling her.

She turned around with a surprised expression which quickly turned into a warm smile.

"Oh hello Blaise, you surprised me," she said in her dreamy, bell-like voice.

Blaise shrugged. "You looked like you had some Wrackspurts floating around in your head, thought I'd get rid of them for you."

Luna laughed, the sound pleasing Blaise's ears. "I suppose I should thank you, then." She said, still smiling. "I was actually looking for my shoes; I seem to have misplaced them."

Blaise looked down at her feet, and sure enough, she stood there with a mismatched pair of socks on her feet. He looked around and noticed a group of Ravenclaw girl's alternating between snickering at her and sending them both scowls. He narrowed his eyes at them menacingly, knowing they most likely knew where her shoes were.

He turned back to Luna to find her once again searching the archways on the ceiling. He took out his wand from his robes. "Let me," he offered, "_Accio Luna's lost shoes_. So anyway, I was actually wondering if you're-,"

"Blaise, look out!" he was far too determined to notice.

"-going to the-,"

"Blaise!" Luna cried again.

"-ball. I mean- oof!"

He doubled over as about five pairs of Luna lost shoes hit him full force in the stomach, effectively winding him. He coughed as Luna led him to a nearby bench, where he sat, trying to get his breath back.

"I did try to warn you," she said, sitting down beside him, "Summoning charms can be quite dangerous. It's probably why people don't try them on knives."

He looked at her incredulously, while holding his stomach. She seemed to be off in her own world, probably imagining the horrible consequences of Accio-ing a knife. After a moment, she picked up a pair of her shoes and slipped them on.

"You've got a lot of lost shoes," he managed to comment, as he held his sore stomach.

"I seem to be a popular target of the Nargles, I suppose," she said as she tied her laces.

"I think it's actually you're roommates that are the culprits," he said gently, thinking back to the girls who had been laughing at her before.

Luna smiled. "I had suspected, but I'd much rather blame the Nargles. I'd not like to think that people would be that cruel for no reason."

"Why don't you tell someone? Professor Flitwick...?" He suggested. He knew deep down that if he was having the same problems he'd merely hex the person, but that was the Slytherin way of dealing with things, and he knew Luna wouldn't do that.

"No, I can handle them," she assured him with a dreamy smile, "What's a few lost cloaks and shoes in the long run?"

Blaise, being a Slytherin, wanted to tell her it was a matter of principal. If someone was picking on you, you fight back. But once again, he knew Luna was epitome of all that was good and sweet; she would never do something like that. It was one of the reasons he thought so highly of her.

"Thank you," she said after a moment, "For getting my shoes back. I've never thought of trying a summoning charm, though I have to say I might think twice." She said, looking at him sympathetically.

"It's fine," he assured her, noticing the pain in his stomach had disappeared, "no harm done. Only to my ego, anyway."

Luna giggled; he smiled back. "What were you asking me anyway? Before my shoes attacked you?"

"Oh, right," Blaise said, suddenly remembering his reason for approaching her in the first place, "I was just wondering if you were going to the Halloween dance?"

Luna nodded. "Oh, yes." She answered brightly, "I'm going with Neville Longbottom."

Blaise sunk considerably in his seat. "Oh. Right. Well I was just making sure you'd be there. It should be fun." He lied, though he tried to sound enthusiastic.

Luna smiled. "It will be. Do you know who you're going with yet?" She asked, completely oblivious to Blaise's sudden mood change.

Blaise shrugged. "Uh, not yet, I'm sure I'll find someone."

"I should think so," Luna said, a small smile on her face, "most of the girls in my dorm are in love with you."

Blaise already knew this, he was certain it was the reason Luna was getting picked on so much lately. He knew he should probably limit their contact for that reason, but he was a Slytherin, they were supposed to be selfish and he liked her company far too much to do something so selfless.

"I should probably go have some breakfast now I've found my shoes," Luna said, after a moment.

"Oh, right, of course." Blaise said, standing.

He watched as Luna carried her numerous pairs of shoes into the Great Hall, earning her strange looks from people on the way. One particular group caught his attention, and he scowled.

He made his way over to the group of Ravenclaw girls that were shooting her dirty looks. He stopped in front of them and cleared his throat. They all turned to him curiously, and immediately their expressions changed to sweet and flirty. He inwardly scoffed.

"Loony Lovegood," he said motioning toward where Luna had been, "she's really strange isn't she?"

The girls looked overjoyed. And began talking at the same time, one in particular caught his attention; the others seemed to be gathered around her. He assumed she was the leader of their little group.

"I know, Blaise," the girl said, fluttering her lashes at him, "she's such a freak."

"Wrong," said Blaise suddenly, his mood darkening, "she's not a freak. And if I find out that you've so much as touched her things again, let alone a single hair on her head, I will make sure it's the biggest mistake you ever make, got it?"

The girls stared at him shocked for a moment at his sudden change in demeanor; he stared back just as intently.

"I said, got it?" he growled. The girl at the front swallowed nervously, before nodding.

"Great," he said, brightening suddenly, "Now get out of here. Remember to stay away from her." He added, as they bustled off into the Great hall.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so serious, Blaise," an amused voice said from behind him. He turned to find himself face to face with Hermione. He shrugged at her statement.

"I don't usually get that 'serious', as you put it, but sometimes people just need to be told what not to do."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "And up until this point I was wondering why you were put in Slytherin, now I know."

He merely chuckled. The difference between him and many of his fellow Slytherins was that he chose his battles well. He turned his attention back to Hermione, noticing the dark rings under her eyes and her tired expression.

"Rough night?" he asked lightly. She didn't seem to find it amusing and merely shrugged.

"How could you tell?" She asked, sarcastically.

"Might be the fact that you didn't take points from me for threatening my fellow students. You must definitely be exhausted of you're not upholding the rules."

This earned a chuckle from Hermione. "Fair point. I'm sure they deserved it though, I know you aren't one to cause conflict for no good reason."

He smiled, happy to know he had her trust. All of a sudden an idea dawned on him.

"Wanna go to the dance with me?" He asked, suddenly. He hadn't been planning to ask her, but he couldn't think of anyone else that he didn't hate too much to ask.

She looked at him suspiciously. "Why would you ask me when you have every girl in school grovelling at your feet?" She asked.

"Because the person I'd like to go with is already taken. And all the other girls are crazy and would probably try to violate me if I went with them." He said, plainly.

Hermione raised a brow. "Such modesty." She said sarcastically. "I was actually going to ask Nevi-,"

"He's going with Luna." Blaise interrupted. He cleared his throat awkwardly, hoping Hermione wouldn't question how he knew that.

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked.

Damn.

"I was just...talking to her," he finished lamely, shrugging.

A small smile came across Hermione's face. Blaise scowled.

"Don't even go there." He warned. "Just say yes. I'm doing us both a favour. I don't have to go with a crazy girl...well at least not one that wants to slip me a love potion," Hermione glared at him, "and you don't have to worry about Hopkins asking you."

Hermione crossed her arms. "What makes you think I don't want to go with Hopkins?" She argued, haughtily, though she knew that she very much didn't.

He gave her a knowing look. "You probably wouldn't have kissed Malfoy if you really liked Hopkins." Blaise said with a smirk.

Hermione's eyes widened and she started sputtering. "We-I-I did not kiss him!" She hissed indignantly. What was with these egotistical Slytherin boys?

"I've been told the details Hermione, and from what I've heard, you seemed pretty keen on the kiss." He wiggled his brows at her.

Hermione snorted. "Well of course he's not going to tell you if I slapped him away and Scourgifyed my mouth out is he?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Did you do that?"

Hermione didn't answer, but he saw her face slowly getting redder and more flushed. That was all the answer he needed. "Exactly." He said, "Now I'll leave you alone about that if you agree to come with me."

Hermione huffed. "Fine," she muttered, sulkily.

"Excellent," Blaise said brightly, "I'll see you later."

With that he left her glaring after him as he sat at the Slytherin table.

* * *

><p>When Blaise sat down he was immediately hounded by Draco, who had somehow managed to pry Pansy off him, though she was still watching him and sending him seductive looks from her seat down the table.<p>

"What were you talking to her for?" Draco leaned over and asked, before taking a bite of his toast.

"I asked her to the dance," Blaise said plainly. He didn't see a point in lying; Draco would see them at the dance anyway.

"What?" Draco hissed a little too loudly, around them their fellow Slytherins turned and looked mildly interested at his outburst.

"Nice one, you idiot." Blaise berated.

"Shut up." Draco hissed again, though significantly quieter, "why'd you ask her?"

Blaise shrugged, casually taking a bite of his own breakfast. "Why not?"

He hated to admit it, but he enjoyed shit stirring his friend.

"Because," Draco whispered angrily, before looking around, "you know I like her."

Blaise scoffed. "It's not like I'm marrying her, mate, relax."

He turned to see Draco still glaring at him.

"Oh come off it. Would you have asked her?" Blaise asked him plainly.

Draco hesitated for a moment before sinking in his chair. "It's not like I could've even if I wanted to."

Blaise nodded. "I know. But who would you rather see her go with? Me or Hopkins?"

Draco scowled. "I hate that bloody Hufflepuff." He hissed.

Blaise chuckled. "Seems she wasn't to keen to go with him either."

That sentence certainly got Draco's interest piqued. He turned to face Blaise.

"Really?"

Blaise nodded. Draco turned to eye Hermione suspiciously.

Blaise gave him an odd look. "Why are you staring at her like that?" he asked, looking back and forth between and oblivious Hermione and a determined Draco.

"No reason." Draco said, but Blaise heard him mutter something else under his breath that he didn't quite catch. He didn't ask either, because at that moment the sound of muffled shrieks rang through the hall gathering everyone's attention to the Gryffindor table.

Lavender Brown was being escorted out the hall by Parvarti Patil and Professor McGonagall. On closer inspection, the girl looked like her lips were stuck together, making it impossible to do anything but shriek.

As she passed the place where Hermione sat she turned and began to shriek what Blaise could only assume were threats. Her arms were flailing wildly, and it took both Parvarti Patil and Professor McGonagall to hold the girl back, though she looked like all she wanted to do was rip Hermione's hair out.

Hermione, on the other hand, sat their innocently watching on, looking just as surprised and shocked as the others. In fact, Blaise wondered if she actually did have anything to do with Lavenders mouth being stuck shut; that is until he saw her turn away with a small satisfied smirk on her face.

Blaise shared a look with Draco who was also watching on with interest. Blaise caught Hermione's eye when she felt them watching her, and he raised his brow in question. She merely shrugged innocently, though the self-satisfied smile on her face gave her away.

Blaise heard Draco chuckle beside him. "I think she's been hanging out with too many Slytherins."

Blaise couldn't help but agree.

"And I think we'll need to go have a chat with the little Gryffindor at some point." Draco continued, his mood seemingly lightened. Blaise looked at him curiously, but the teen had turned his attention back to his breakfast. He only wondered what Draco wanted to talk to her about? He didn't bother to ask, however, and merely finished his own breakfast.

* * *

><p>That night Hermione stood in the Transfiguration section of the library, perusing the shelves and unconsciously smiling to herself. She had really shown Lavender Brown not to mess with her.<p>

The girl had been taken to the hospital wing to get her lips un-stuck and had straight away pointed the finger at Hermione. When Hermione had been called to McGonagall's office she had feigned confusion and innocence, and given her clean record, not to mention being professor McGonagall's favourite student, she had been proclaimed innocent and allowed to go without punishment.

Hermione couldn't help but feel extremely satisfied that she'd shown that blonde bimbo not to mess with her, especially after the comments she had made that morning. While Hermione did not plan to use such means to get revenge, she did have to admit the similarities between Potter and Lavender were undeniable and it took Potter a few knocks to the bollocks and the threat of expulsion to get him to leave her alone. She only hoped Lavender was a little more intelligent. Hermione was at least certain she'd be smart enough to throw out her lip gloss.

She turned the corner to the next shelf not bothering to look up; that is until she heard someone clear their throat. She looked up to find herself cornered by Draco Malfoy. He was leaning against the shelf, with his hands in his pocket smirking at her.

She groaned, not bothering to hide her annoyance at seeing him, before she turned around to find Blaise standing directly behind her, a small smile on his face. She eyed him suspiciously, before stepping away. Looking around she found herself essentially trapped, with both ends of the shelf occupied by smug Slytherins.

She sighed, going back to her perusal of the shelf. "Why does this seem like a vaguely familiar situation?" She muttered, wryly.

She heard Draco chuckle. "Don't worry, Granger, I'm not going to hex you. We just came to praise you on your little stunt with Lavender Brown."

Hermione tensed before turning around and looking between them both. "What makes you think I had anything to do with that?" She asked, defensively.

Both boys cocked their heads to the side and gave her similar disbelieving looks. At that moment Hermione was taken by how similar their mannerisms were. She mused that they must've spent a lot of time together over the years.

"You looked pretty pleased when it happened," Draco explained, in answer to her question.

Hermione scoffed, before pulling a random book off the shelf. "Who wouldn't? Lavender isn't exactly a pleasant person."

She opened the book to a random page, hoping that if she pretended to read they'd both leave her alone. Unfortunately, Blaise stepped forward and pulled the book from her grasp.

"Traitor," she hissed. He merely grinned and shrugged, before leaning back against the shelf and flicking through the book, effectively ignoring the two others.

Hermione sighed, before turning back to Draco and crossing her arms. "Why are you here anyway?" She asked, not bothering to keep the hostility out of her voice.

"Calm down, Granger," he said, smoothly, "we just came to talk." He moved closer looking as though he was searching for a book, but as he got a couple of feet away he turned to her again.

Hermione raised a brow. "Aren't you afraid to be seen with me? Won't it ruin your reputation?" She asked bitterly.

He stared at her oddly for a moment, before shrugging. "That's why Zabini's here. If anyone comes it'll just look like we're bailing you up like old times." He mused, almost looking as though he were reminiscing.

Hermione shot a glance at Blaise to find his nose still stuck in the book, completely ignoring them. For a moment, she wondered what book it was that she'd accidently picked out because he certainly seemed to like it. She'd have to steal it back from him before they left. She was drawn back to Draco when he spoke.

"So anyway, Granger, I hear you're going to that ridiculous dance with Blaise, here. No Hopkins, then? What a surprise." She turned to find him smirking at her, his eyes twinkling.

She narrowed hers. "Maybe I am. So what?"

"See, some of us were under the impression you liked Hopkins, since you shared you're first kiss with him and all." He said, his eyes still twinkling. Hermione felt herself flushing at the direction the conversation was going.

"Your point?" She tried to ask as calmly as possible.

"My point is, if you liked him so much and shared such a _special_ kiss with him, wouldn't you be jumping at the chance to go with him?"

"Not necessarily." She retorted.

"You would, unless you lied and his kiss meant as much to you as Blaise's little drunken snog did."

They both turned to look at Blaise, who was staring at the book with a sheepish expression. Obviously he'd paid attention to _that_ part of the conversation.

Hermione huffed, turning back to a very satisfied looking Draco. "What's your point?" She asked impatiently, feeling extremely uncomfortable about where this was going.

"My point is, you're a little liar, Granger." He accused, though the twinkle in his eye made it less harsh, "You're more Slytherin than you know."

She looked at him, feeling incredibly confused. "What exactly did I lie about?"

"You did enjoy kissing me, didn't you?" He asked, rocking on his heels, looking incredibly smug. "You're just too stubborn to admit it."

Hermione sputtered for a moment. "You kissed me! I didn't kiss you!"

"See, Granger. You're lying again, you kissed me back. And you didn't deny that you enjoyed it." He accused lightly.

She turned to Blaise for some sort of back-up, but he was merely shaking his head as if to say 'don't bring me into this.' She scowled at him. Some help he was. She turned back to Draco.

"You're delusional." She said, trying to laugh the accusation off.

"And you're a liar." He said again, retreating backwards still facing her, with a smug expression, "But don't worry Granger, I know the truth now. This changes things."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Blaise leave around the other side of the shelf.

She, however, couldn't help but panic about what exactly it changed. "What do you mean? What are you going to do, you git?" She asked, hotly.

He merely tapped his nose with his finger, as though he knew something she didn't. As she watched him walk away side-by-side with Blaise, she couldn't help but think that maybe he did.

**A/N:**

**Ok guys, here it is. Hope you enjoyed **

**This is more of a chapter to progress the relationships a bit further, so I'm sorry that nothing too mind blowing happened.**

**I've honestly been winging this story the whole time haha. Every time I plan for it to go somewhere, it tends to go down a different path, so I've just given up trying to plan it and I'm just going with the flow.**

**Anyway guys, let me know what you thought about this chapter. I'm so excited cause I've reached over 300 reviews. I can't even believe it, but thank you to all those who review and take the time to read this, it means a lot.**

**Have a great day/night guys.**

**Cheers!**

**Leni**


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter 11_**

_...in which a confession is made._

* * *

><p>Hermione sat in her dorm that Saturday night grumbling to herself. The room was completely empty, due to the fact that her dorm mates were either downstairs socialising or in an abandoned corridor snogging some boy. She assumed that's what Lavender Brown would be doing, anyway.<p>

The two girls had spent the remainder of the week sending each other scowls and, in Lavenders case, a few tripping jinxes. Hermione had tried extremely hard to keep her temper from snapping, but was saved by Ginny who covertly sent a Bat-bogey hex in the girls' direction. Needless to say, seeing Lavender Brown being chased by her own boogers was satisfying. Unfortunately, it was hardly enough to put Hermione in a good mood.

It seemed everywhere she went the past week, Malfoy was there annoying her. He was in the library, the corridors, he and Blaise even followed her outside onto the freezing grounds when she'd had enough of them and tried to get some peace. It was seriously irking her, and she was curious as to what he was planning.

She though back to a few days ago in the library, he'd said 'this changes everything'. But what exactly was he talking about, and what had changed? He had been odd lately. He would send her seductive looks in class that had her blushing and knocking over her ink (this only caused he and Blaise to chuckle in amusement), then in the corridors he had attempted to get her alone a few times when they passed each other. Needless to say, she had raced the other direction as fast as possible.

This 'new' Malfoy was strange, and it unnerved her. That is why on a Saturday night when she'd normally be in the library or hanging out with Neville, she was hiding in her dorm away from those pesky Slytherin boys.

She grumbled once more as she sat up. She was incredibly bored. So bored she was sure she might go crazy. She sighed at the sound of footsteps on the stairs as Lavender Brown made her way into the dorm looking rather dishevelled.

"Oh, Hermione, I thought you'd be in the library tonight." The blonde said, as she moved toward her bed, "That's usually where you spend most of your time. Nose in a book, and all."

Hermione tried to banish the temptation of hexing the girl, and instead shrugged. "I thought I'd spend a night in. Not all of us feel the need to snog random boys on Saturday nights."

Lavender narrowed her eyes slightly. "I was not snogging some random boy. I was snogging my date to the dance." She boasted proudly.

"That's nice," Hermione replied, uninterested. She turned to pick some lint off her bed trying to ignore Lavenders eyes on her. After a moment, the blonde huffed.

"Well aren't you going to ask who it is?" She asked, impatiently. Hermione merely shook her head.

"Asking would imply I care. Which I don't." She smiled sweetly at the girl before standing and gathering her things. She had a feeling the library would be relatively empty, or at least she hoped. Either way, it was better than listening to Lavender Brown.

"Well I'll tell you anyway," Lavender began, smugly, "just so you aren't disappointed when you hear every one talking about it."

Hermione grumbled at Lavenders fake concern as she lifted her book bag over her shoulder, trying to ignore the girl behind her.

"It's Wayne Hopkins." Lavender burst out after a moment, obviously realising Hermione was about to leave without commenting, "He asked me today. Didn't I tell you that you should've focused on your looks more? Maybe he would've asked you instead."

Hermione turned to find Lavender smirking at her. She felt a wave of anger wash over her, and the extreme temptation to jinx all the items in the bimbo's makeup bag so they made her look like a clown.

Hermione, however, was already aware that she wouldn't be going with Hopkins; in fact just two days ago he'd plucked up the courage to ask her, to which she'd told him she'd already found a date. He'd looked disappointed, but perked up slightly when she promised him a dance. She'd even gone so far as to suggest that he ask Lavender, since she seemed awfully keen on him. She was sorely regretting that altruistic act now, especially considering the smug look on Lavender's face.

"Well, I'm flattered you pay so much attention to my looks, Lavender," Hermione said as sweetly as possible, "But I've already got a date."

Lavender rolled her eyes and gave a rather unladylike snort. Hermione raised a brow at this.

"Who are you going with? _Neville_?" Lavender asked, chuckling in amusement. Hermione's eyes narrowed menacingly and she shifted her bag on her shoulder, resisting the urge to swing it at the girls head.

"I wanted to go with Neville, but unfortunately he already has a date, he's going with a friend of his, Luna Lovegood," Lavender snorted again at this, and muttered something unintelligible, "So I'm going with Blaise Zabini instead."

The room suddenly went silent as Lavenders giggles stopped abruptly. She stared at Hermione wide-eyed for a moment, before narrowing her eyes. "You're lying. Seriously, Hermione, if you're going to make stuff up, at least make it believable." She shook her head and turned to inspect her nails.

Hermione merely shrugged, "You'll see if I'm lying soon enough, Lavender." She muttered, as she left through the dormitory door.

She didn't like to brag about going to the dance with Blaise Zabini, because in all honesty she'd much rather be going with Neville. He was comfortable, and she knew she'd have fun with him; she couldn't deny, however, that the look on Lavender Browns face when she entered the ball on Blaise Zabini's arm was going to be priceless.

She exited the portrait hole with a satisfied smirk as she headed toward the library, warily checking around each corner and scanning every corridor as she went carefully trying to avoid a certain Slytherin or two.

* * *

><p>In the Slytherin common room, Blaise was seated on the couch around the fire with Draco, Potter and Weasley. The latter two of the group were locked in intimate embraces with two not-so-attractive 5th years. Blaise shared a disgusted look with Draco, and silently they both stood and exited the portrait hole.<p>

"I'm not gonna be able to eat for a week now," Blaise muttered, as they strolled up the stairs to the Entrance hall. Draco nodded in agreement, a disgusted expression still adorning his features.

"I know. I'm a little disappointed actually. I thought for sure they'd never get laid again." He pouted slightly.

Blaise smirked at his friends put-out expression, "Don't worry, mate, it's only the desperate girls that'll have them."

This seemed to cheer Draco up slightly.

They made their way into the entrance hall, which was completely empty. Blaise huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking the stone floor.

"I'm bloody bored," he muttered after a moment, "I've a right mind just to leave you to watch the snog-fest while I go to the library or something."

He looked up to find Draco wasn't listening to him at all and was instead staring at the wall in deep thought. Blaise shook his head in disbelief.

"What do ya think Granger's doing?" Draco asked lightly, turning back to look at Blaise. Blaise rolled his eyes; he wasn't surprised with the direction this conversation was heading.

"I dunno," Blaise replied as patiently as possible, "She's probably hiding from you."

Draco furrowed his brow, looking slightly offended. "Why would she do that?"

Blaise gave him a withering look. "Geez, I dunno," he began sarcastically, "You've been following her around, trying to flirt with her, trying to get her alone. I assume she's hiding away in case you try to corner her- again."

Draco grinned. "She acts like she wants me to stop, but she doesn't really."

Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed tiredly. "If you say so, mate."

Draco had been talking about ways to get Hermione alone for days now. Blaise was surprised he hadn't lost his patience and hexed his best friend into a catatonic state. It was really starting to get on his nerves.

"So are we gonna go find her?" Draco asked after a moment, heading toward the stairs. Blaise shook his head.

"You can go find her," he said, over-taking Draco, "I've got better things to do then watch you flirt all night."

Draco shrugged, though he looked a little curious. "Fine. Some help you are. Where do you think she is anyway?"

Blaise shook his head, an incredulous look on his face. Draco was the one that was practically stalking her, yet he had to ask _him_ where she was?

"Well, it's Granger we're talking about," he reminded his friend, "If she's even out of the Gryffindor common room, she'll most likely be in the library."

Draco nodded, looking thoughtful. "Alright," he said after a moment, "but where are you going?"

Blaise smirked, "Never you mind."

They walked up the staircase together and parted ways at the library. Blaise left Draco staring curiously after him, no doubt wondering what he was up to. Blaise, however, wasn't about to tell Draco anything and continued up the staircase toward his destination.

* * *

><p>Hermione had never taken so long to get to the library before. She had been ducking around every corner at the sound of footsteps, only to sigh in relief as she saw it wasn't the people she was so carefully avoiding. She couldn't help but think she resembled some sort of 'James Bond' spy, ducking around corners and sneaking about. She almost felt slightly embarrassed about her behaviour, until she saw Blaise climbing the stairs.<p>

She ducked into a dark alcove and watched as he passed, thanking Merlin for her overly paranoid behaviour. She only wondered where the other half of the pair was. Looking around she saw no sign of the platinum-haired nuisance anywhere. She could only assume that meant he was spending the night in the dungeons, since he and Blaise rarely went anywhere without the other. She inwardly sighed in relief; maybe she'd manage to get some work done tonight after all without him distracting her. She almost laughed at herself for being so neurotic.

She watched closely as Blaise passed out of sight and continued down the staircase in a more normal fashion, feeling that she most likely wouldn't be running into anyone she didn't want to see.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she happily entered the library doors. This was her haven; the place where she lost touch with reality and let all her problems go. She let the smell of old parchment and ancient tomes calm her as she walked to her seat. Ironically it was the seat she'd found when she sat near Blaise all those weeks ago. At least she knew for a fact that he wasn't there now.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean the space was unoccupied. As she turned the corner, she saw a mop of unmistakeable silver hair that automatically had her heart rate increasing. She resisted the urge to curse, and instead slipped behind a nearby shelf, praying that he hadn't heard her.

Peeking through a gap in the shelf, she saw him look up from the book he was absorbed in, and gaze around with a hopeful expression, only to sink in his chair slightly when he saw no one. He turned his attention back to his book, and Hermione was distracted for a moment with how different he looked.

His mouth which usually held a smug or arrogant grin was relaxed into a small line. Though she noticed his tongue would slide out and wet his lips every so often. She tried not to focus on that too much, as she felt a small blush come to her face. She turned her focus to the rest of his face. His eyes were staring intently at the page he was reading, and Hermione couldn't help but realise she'd seen that look on his face before. When he was looking at her. That thought sent an odd sensation through her stomach.

His brows were furrowed slightly in concentration, and his arms were crossed in front of him, with one hand holding the book open slightly. Hermione couldn't help but notice that his touch on the book seemed gentle, almost as if he were afraid of damaging it. She wondered if he'd be like that if he touched her-

Whoa. She took a deep breath and turned away from the teen, leaning her back on the shelf and trying to steady her heart beat. Where did that come from? Since when was she thinking those thoughts about Malfoy? She was supposed to hate him. She was determined to hate him. The only problem was, she was starting to hate him a lot less lately.

She inwardly cursed. Ginny was right. Once the idea of liking Malfoy was planted into her head, it was bound to happen. The stupid seed of doubt, or more fittingly, attraction, had already been planted and was already growing. Steadily too, by the looks of it.

She had known the day he kissed her that she was pretty much doomed, not to over-exaggerate or anything. No one recovers from a kiss like _that_ without some form of trauma. In Hermione's case that trauma was more in feeling horrified and annoyed at the fact that the boy she had once thought she would end up hating forever, was now one she couldn't stop thinking about. What would Neville say if he knew? What would Ginny say? She'd probably suggest she go to St Mungo's for a mental health evaluation.

Hermione turned back around and peeked through the gap in the shelf. Draco was still sitting there calmly reading, and she'd never felt more confused, idiotic and ashamed in her life. She was supposed to be strong, not some weak victim that swoons as soon as the object of her hate shows some decency towards her.

"Crap," she muttered quietly to herself. This was probably what he wanted all along. He was probably trying to send her to the mad house with his mind games. She only hoped she wasn't too far gone with her attraction.

She didn't have a distraction in Hopkins anymore since he was clearly snogging her roommate. Now she had no one to think about or focus on other than the ethereal boy at the table just a few feet away. She only realised now that all those hours she spent thinking about how much she hated him, how much she'd like to wipe the arrogant grin off his face, how much she wished he'd just disappear, were only helping to plant his presence in her life more than ever. Now she was worried she wouldn't be able to get him out of it. Because she wasn't sure she wanted to anymore.

"Idiot," she muttered to herself, "You're an idiot, Hermione. You're supposed to be smart."

Unfortunately for Hermione, she was going to realise that that brains and intelligence have no amount of control over the heart.

"Drakey! Draco!"

Hermione cringed at the unmistakeably squeaky voice of Pansy Parkinson that echoed through the library. She looked through the gap in the shelf and saw Draco jump at the sound. He stood, cursing under his breath and grabbed his book off the table.

"Draco! Are you in here?" Pansy called again, closer this time. Draco looked around, alarmed.

"Shit," she heard him hiss to himself, as he moved toward the stack of shelves Hermione had been hiding behind. Her heart began to race as she realised he was going to find her when he hid there. She slipped behind another shelf, and then another, until she was certain she'd lost him.

Unfortunately, she didn't have time to escape as a hard body raced around the shelf and slammed right into her, causing her to fall on the stone floor on her backside.

"Shit," he muttered again, before looking down. He seemed to freeze on the spot when he realised who it was, before his lips turned upwards into a small smile.

"So you are here," he commented. Hermione scoffed as she stood, brushing herself off.

"Nice observation," she muttered dryly, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing. She tried to act casual as she turned to peruse the shelves. It would not do well for her if he knew the affect his mere presence now had on her.

"Draco!" Pansy's voice called again, much closer this time. Next to Hermione, Draco froze again.

"Aren't you going to go out there and greet your little girlfriend?" Hermione asked dryly, as she moved along the shelf. She couldn't deny that she was slightly bitter too. But only slightly, she convinced herself.

She heard him scoff. "Don't be disgusting, Granger." He hissed, before peeking around the shelf obviously seeing if he had to escape again.

They heard footsteps close by and the irritated voice of Madam Pince berating Pansy for squawking so loudly in a place where people were trying to concentrate. She heard Draco breathe a sigh of relief as Pansy's protests became more distant, as she was shooed out of the library by the strict librarian.

Hermione tried to ignore the fact that she was now completely alone with Draco in a very secluded and dark area. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin.

"So how long have you been here?" he asked, she heard his footsteps following behind her as she attempted to move away from the sensation.

"Not long," she lied. She couldn't exactly tell him what she was really doing the whole time, could she?

"What are you looking for?" he asked after another moment of silence.

"A book," she stated vaguely. He chuckled. She was surprised by how close to her ear the sound was. She turned her head slightly to find he was standing very close to her. Much too close.

"A book on what?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

She sighed in annoyance at his incessant questioning, "A book on 'none of your business'." She snapped as she attempted to move away as subtly as possible, feeling herself becoming flustered at the proximity.

"Don't be like that," he said, silkily, though she could still hear the amusement in his voice, "I'm just curious."

"No," she retorted, "You're just being a pain in the butt, like you have been for the past few days. I don't know what game you're playing, but I really wish you'd go bother someone else."

She didn't know how much of that was actually the truth.

"You don't mean that," he said after a moment, almost reading her thoughts. His voice had lost its amused quality.

"You wouldn't know what I mean," she muttered, her finger tracing the titles of books, "You've only acknowledged I exist for the past couple of weeks."

It was true, before now there was no way you'd catch Malfoy talking to her, except if it was a barrage of insults.

"I knew you existed before that," he argued back. She sent him a scathing look before sighing and turning to him fully. He stood up straighter and looked more attentive seeing that he had her full attention.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, losing her patience. It may be all fun and games for him, but it wasn't for her. She was sick of being the butt of his jokes, especially considering the fact that the more he was around her the more she hated herself for not hating him quite as much.

He looked genuinely confused. "Doing what?"

She laughed mirthlessly before motioning between them. "This. Why me? Is there no other person you could make fun of that is as amusing? Surely you can find someone else to mess with? I barely even react anymore."

He crossed his arms, and raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm messing with you?"

Hermione sighed, and shook her head in amusement.

"Because, you've been messing with me since the moment I first met you. It may have become harmless, which might just be because you've grown up and matured slightly, but it's still ridiculous. The kiss, the looks you've been giving me in class, the snide little remarks, they aren't funny! Why would you even bother?" She finished hotly, her arms flailing slightly.

Draco was watching her with an amused expression, and a small smirk on his face. "That's a good question, Granger. When you find the answer to that, then you'll understand."

She stared at him in annoyance for a moment, before throwing her hands up in defeat. "I am this close," she said after a moment, holding her hand up with a space of a centimetre between her thumb and forefinger, "this close to punching you in the face."

He raised an eyebrow again, "You wouldn't do that." He said confidently.

She scoffed. "And why wouldn't I? I've slapped you before." She said haughtily, crossing her arms defensively.

"Because," he began in a whisper, leaning forward slightly as though he were letting her in on a secret, "deep down in the part of your head that is filled with notions you'd never even think twice about, the part of your brain that squashes every idea that doesn't suit your perfectly ordered little life, you know you feel something for me."

He leaned back, looking smug, while Hermione stared at him wide-eyed.

"You're speechless 'cause you know I'm right." He commented after a moment of silence. That snapped her back into reality and she scowled.

"No, you're just delusional. Even if I did like you, which I _don't_," she added hastily as he opened his mouth to speak, "what would be the point in it? Would it amuse you for a while or something? Why do you need that? There are plenty of girls who would scratch each other's eyes out to get you, and you're here annoying me, the one girl you're supposed to hate, and have proven you hated for the past few years. Does that not seem a little odd to you?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "It doesn't seem odd at all, actually." He commented softly, examining the shelf opposite him.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, it does. Either you're a psychopath who merely enjoys causing me pain and discomfort, or you're gay and you're intentionally going for girls who are emotionally unavailable."

Hermione almost chuckled at the look of horror that crossed Draco's face. "I am most definitely not gay. I kissed _you_, didn't I?"

"Because I'm emotionally unavailable to you." She explained, lightly, enjoying his discomfort. Now he knew how it felt.

"That doe- Wait, what do you mean by that?" he asked, looking genuinely curious and a little put out, Hermione thought oddly.

"Well, all these girls throw themselves at you, they'd have you in a second if you let them." She said, picking a random book off the shelf and flicking through it, "I, on the other hand, despise your whole existence. Perhaps you're in denial about your sexuality and don't want to admit it's you, so you harass a girl you know will never have you so you can explain it away as mere bad luck."

She turned to find him staring at her with a sickened expression. "I'm not gay, Granger."

She chuckled inwardly. She knew he wasn't gay, he'd had more girls than half the guys in school, but somehow she enjoyed seeing the tortured expression on his face. She explained it away as revenge; he had it coming, didn't he?

Hermione merely shrugged. "You seemed awfully pleased about Potter and Weasley coming out?" She said, teasingly.

He scoffed. "They aren't really gay Granger, it was just an intricately placed Confundus charm which-," he stopped mid sentence, looking at her in alarm. Hermione turned to face him fully, an eyebrow raised in interest.

"And how would you know that?" She asked, a mischievous smile growing on her face. He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at her.

"I just heard it around," he said simply, shrugging. There was no mistaking the guilt that crossed his face, however.

Hermione began to laugh, not only at his discomfort, but at the deed itself. Malfoy had done _that_ to his friends? It was just too much, but the thought of it had her highly amused. She hated those two boys more that she'd once hated Malfoy, and that was saying something. She thought it was highly entertaining after what they'd done to her. She only wondered why he did do it. She made a mental note to ask Blaise about it at some point.

She recovered from her fit of laughter moments later, and wiped a tear of mirth from her eye. Looking back at Draco, she saw him staring at her with twinkling eyes; his lips were quirked ever so slightly in a way that almost resembled a smile.

"What?" she asked suddenly self conscious. He merely shook his head in response, before looking away, though the small quirk of his lips never faulted.

"So are you going to report me?" he asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

She scoffed. "Like I'd do that, as far as I'm concerned those idiots deserved it."

"They did." Draco agreed, his eyes darkening slightly.

Hermione's interest was piqued. "What did they do to you to make you go that far anyway?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "So where were we? Oh right, I think you were about to admit you're keen on me."

Hermione scowled, feeling a slight blush on her cheeks. "You really are an arrogant ass."

"That isn't a denial." He said, smirking. It almost amazed Hermione how he could go from being normal and almost likeable to an arrogant, pompous git in the span of a few seconds.

"Sorry," she said, turning away from him, "I prefer my men straight."

She heard him growl in annoyance, and smirked. At least she knew one way to annoy him, compared to the many ways he had against her.

Before she knew what was happening she felt him grip her by the arms and spin her around. She was forcibly pushed back until she could feel the edges of the books on the shelf against her back. She barely had time to register this abrupt movement, however, as her lips were suddenly covered by his.

The kiss was frantic, hot and passionate, much like their first. Hermione mused that it just must be his style, but quickly lost track of the thought as she felt his tongue brush against her bottom lip. Once again, her sanity left her and she opened her mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss. The feeling of his tongue against hers sent a wave of adrenalin through her stomach, and caused her to tingle in all the right places.

She was lost in the warmth of his body pressed firmly up against hers, her head practically swimming at the sensation. Hermione was surprised by how much gentler his hands were compared to his kiss, almost caressing her the way she thought he might only moments before.

They trailed up and down her sides, occasionally gripping her thighs and pulling her closer to him, she could feel him up against her and in a moment of pleasure she rubbed herself against his hardness, revelling in the guttural groan that issued from his throat.

His hands moved up the back of her head, pulling her even closer so there was no space between them. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck and began kissing her and nipping her gently; his hips began to grind against her in a way that sent shivers down her spine, but only for a moment, because as soon as the whimper of pleasure left her mouth, she came crashing back to reality.

She pushed him away and stared at him wide eyed, unable to believe what had just happened. He leaned against the opposite shelf panting, looking just as shocked as her, though that passed quickly and soon his mouth formed into a grin.

Hermione felt like she'd committed the ultimate act of betrayal to herself. She was angry and disappointed in the fact that she quite almost lost herself in a moment of passion against a book shelf with a boy who was clearly taking her for a ride. A boy she was trying to make herself hate.

"How's that for straight?" he asked after a moment, still grinning.

Hermione looked up and met his eyes, a pool of anger bubbling inside her, not for him, but for herself. This fact, however, did not stop it from being directed at the wrong person. "Well, good for you, you proved your point." She spat.

His grin faded and his expression became one of confusion. "What?"

"Nothing," she muttered, wanting to escape there as much as possible, "I've got to go. I'll get more homework done in my room."

With that, she walked of leaving him to watch her back as she left the library. She knew now that it would be impossible to ignore the feeling that were rapidly rising within her; not after that. But why of all people did it have to be him?

* * *

><p>Upstairs, Blaise stood in front of the Entrance to Ravenclaw tower, having a faceoff with the Guard of the door; a bronze door handle. Needless to say, Blaise was losing the battle.<p>

"Would you please just let me in?" he begged, his patience running thin, "I don't know the answer to your stupid question, and I don't particularly care!"

"Not until you answer the question correct, young man," the bronze knocker said, becoming thoroughly annoyed, "I cannot let you in, otherwise."

Blaise threw his hands up in exasperation. "Forget it. I don't know why I didn't just do this earlier."

He grabbed hold of the knocker, much to its muffled protests from under his hand, and began to knock loudly on the door. After a moment, it swung open and he was greeting with the confused and slightly amused face of Mandy Brocklehurst.

"Blaise?" She asked, tentatively, looking between him and the knocker which was now berating him not-so-kindly, "What are you doing up here?"

Blaise looked sheepish for a moment. "I was actually wondering if Luna was in there?"

Mandy gave him a knowing smile. "I think she's in her dorm. I'll have one of the fifth years go and get her. Won't be a second."

With that, Mandy left him standing outside the entrance to Ravenclaw common room listening to the bronze knocker, the guard, abuse him.

Blaise sighed tiredly. "Would you shut up, please?"

If door knockers could look offended, Blaise was sure this one would. "How dare you speak to me in such a way! I've never been treated so rudely!"

Blaise shrugged. "I did say please, and besides, you're a door handle, I doubt that many people talk to you anyway." He said simply.

He heard the knocker gasp. "Why you- This is why I'm happy to guard the Ravenclaw common room, heaven forbid if I was forced to speak to such rude Slytherins all day!"

"Oi," Blaise berated angrily, "I could quite easily hex you off this door, and stick you in Moaning Myrtles toilet. How would you like that?"

Blaise made a show of pulling out his wand and pointing it at the knocker, though he wasn't sure if it could even see the gesture.

"You wouldn't..." the knocker said hesitantly.

"I am a Slytherin, after all-,"

"Blaise?" he heard a dreamy voice call from behind him. He turned abruptly to find Luna watching him with a bemused expression. He quickly straightened up and shoved his wand in his pocket again.

"Oh, Luna. Hi." He said, feeling utterly ridiculous.

Luna looked between him and the bronze knocker. "Were you fighting with Arrod?"

Blaise was surprised the obnoxious piece of bronze had a name. Behind him the knocker began to argue loudly, Blaise stuck his hand over the spot he assumed its mouth was and muffled it's words before it could tell on him.

"Fighting? No. No way. I was just showing it my wand skills. He was quite impressed." Blaise heard the sound of the knockers muffled words trying to argue, but his hand was effectively stopping Luna from understanding them.

"Oh," Luna sighed, perking up slightly, "I show him sometimes too. I like him. He guards our common room very well."

"I know," muttered Blaise, narrowing his eyes towards the knocker under his hand, "Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to take a walk with me or something?"

Luna looked thoughtful for a moment. "Alright," she agreed brightly, "I've got a letter I need to post, maybe we could stop by the owlery?"

"Sure." Blaise agreed, quickly, desperate to get as far away from the Ravenclaw common room as possible.

He waited patiently for Luna to retrieve her letter, and was relieved when she finally returned and they could get away from the entrance to the common room and the bronze knocker that was still insulting him under its breath.

"So, uh, how have you been?" Blaise asked as they walked along the corridor. It was completely void of people, besides he and Luna.

"Oh, just fine, really." Luna answered brightly. There was a moment of silence in which Blaise was acutely aware of her hand brushing against his as they walked.

"Have your room mates been giving you trouble still?" he asked after a moment. He hoped they hadn't, otherwise he and Draco would have to take them on a little trip to the Prefects bathroom.

"They haven't actually," she answered, looking thoughtful, "None of my stuff has been hidden in a few days, which is convenient."

She turned to him with a small smile on her face, he returned it.

"I'm glad to hear that. If they do start again, harassing you, I mean, just let me know."

Luna stopped walking and turned to face him, he did the same. She looked at him curiously for a moment before speaking.

"Why are you so nice to me?" She asked, quietly. Blaise was taken aback by the question, and merely shrugged.

"I dunno. Why wouldn't I be?" he asked.

"No one else is, not really anyway." She said, cocking her head to the side, "But you've been nice to me since I first met you."

Blaise shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't know why...I just liked you straight away, I suppose. You're different, but not in a bad way. I can forget my problems when you're around because I see how you never let anything get to you. I suppose I just like being around you."

Luna smiled at him, the action causing his stomach to flip. "I'm lucky then."

Blaise let out a relieved breath at her comment and grinned. "I suppose it depends on how you look at it."

Luna turned and continued walking down the corridor, towards the owlery. Blaise was so enthralled in the comfortable silence he nearly jumped when she spoke. "I think no matter what way I look at it, I'm still lucky."

She left him gaping slightly as she opened the door to the owlery, and stepped inside. After a moment she poked her head back out and looked at him curiously. "Are you coming in? You don't have to worry about catching Himpydinks from the owls; the weather's far too cold for them."

That got Blaise's attention, and he stepped inside after Luna wondering whether he really could catch Himpydinks from owls.

The owlery was freezing that night, with an icy breeze flowing inside the uncovered windows. He was surprised to see Luna wasn't wearing her cloak, she must've been freezing.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked with concern, as she called for an owl. A small brown owl flew down from its perch and stood in front of her, its leg out waiting for her to attach the letter.

"A little bit," she said distractedly as she tied her letter the owls' leg. Blaise hesitated for a moment, before walking over to her and slipped off his own cloak, slipping it over her shoulders. She turned to him and smiled.

"You really are as sweet as my roommates say," Luna beamed. Blaise resisted the urge to snort in amusement. He had a feeling her roommates wouldn't say that anymore, especially after he threatened them.

He merely shrugged, feeling uncomfortable at the praise. "So who were you writing to?" he asked, motioning to the owl that had just flown out the window next to them.

"Oh," Luna began in her wistful voice, "just my father. He likes to hear from me when I'm at Hogwarts, since it gets rather lonely back home." She looked faraway for a moment, at least more than usual, and Blaise wondered what she was thinking about.

"What about your mother?" He asked, hesitantly. She turned back to him with wistful smile.

"She died when I was nine. She liked to experiment with spells, and one day it backfired. She was lovely, from what I can remember of her."

"I'm sorry about that," he said, awkwardly, "and for asking."

Luna smiled. "It's ok. Do you still have both your parents?"

Blaise hesitated. Parentage was not a subject he liked to discuss, at least when it concerned his own.

"Uh, well I never knew my father personally, because he died when I was too young to remember him. And my mum's still alive." He shrugged, feeling uncomfortable at revealing himself so much.

Luna nodded. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you're very close to your mother."

"Uhhh, well I care for her," he said simply, "but she's not around much. She likes to travel, and she tends to prefer that. She was never good at being a mother; she was more of a friend that visited every now and then. It's fine though, I'm old enough now to take care of myself."

Luna cocked her head to the side. "What do you do in the summer when you have to go home, and for Christmas?"

Blaise rubbed the back of his neck, it was a gesture that showed his discomfort, but Luna's piercing blue eyes were unrelenting.

"I stay at Malfoy's. He's the second closest thing I have to family." Blaise looked around for a moment taking in the owlery as an excuse to look away, feeling unnerved at her stare. That said a lot about Luna; not often could people get to him like this.

"Is that why you hate to talk about your feelings? Because you've never had anyone openly show you theirs?"

Blaise turned to look at her with furrowed brows. "What do you mean?"

Luna smiled knowingly. "You get noticeably uncomfortable when talking about how you feel."

"Oh," Blaise muttered, looking at his feet, "I hadn't noticed." It was a lie. He knew he ignored his own feelings and didn't share them that often. He spent all his time dealing with Malfoy's issues, because it made it far easier to ignore his own. He looked back up at Luna's eyes, and funnily enough he didn't feel ashamed or embarrassed anymore.

There was a moment of silence in which their eyes were locked. Luna looked perfect standing in front of him, in his cloak that was far too big for her, her blue eyes twinkling and a knowing smile on her face.

"Luna-," she stopped him mid sentence, by holding her finger to her mouth in a silencing gesture.

She stepped forward til they were only inches apart, and stood on her tip toes til their faces were mere centimetres apart.

She placed her lips softly against his, the warmth of her mouth in comparison to the cool air around them made Blaise shiver. Too soon for him, they broke apart and she stood back down on her feet staring up at him with a small smile.

"There. I'll show you my feelings first so you don't have to."

He stood speechless for a moment, staring down at her. He wanted to tell her that this was the best moment of his day; that he thought about her constantly, that he liked everything about her, but all that came out was, "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

She smiled at him. A smile he knew was reserved only for him, and he knew that she understood everything he'd left unsaid just from that once sentence.

* * *

><p>Blaise awoke in his dorm the next morning, feeling content and downright pleased. He thought back to the events of the night before, and a goofy grin made its way to his face.<p>

"What are you smiling like that for?" Someone snapped at him from across the room. He looked up to see Draco glaring at him accusingly. Blaise sat up and rested against the headboard of his bed.

"Well good bloody morning to you too," he muttered, running his hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up more. He looked across at Draco and saw him sitting on his bed looking miserable.

"What's up with you?" he asked the blond, "Didn't get any action last night?" He grinned at his friend who merely scowled back.

"No, I got action," Draco ranted, "if you count my hand in the fucking shower."

Blaise made a face of disgust. "Geez, mate, that's something I didn't need to know."

Draco stood and began sifting angrily through his drawers for clothing, ignoring Blaise's comment.

"She can't just bloody admit she likes me, can she?" he muttered angrily. Blaise was uncertain if he was talking to him, or himself. "No, she has to go get pissed off again and act like I sexually assaulted her. I mean, seriously, do I look like I need to go around sexually assaulting girls?" He shook his head and forcefully ripped some clothes out of his drawer before slamming it shut again.

Blaise watched Draco with raised brows, feeling slightly amused at his friends antics. He knew this could only be related to one person.

"Did Granger reject you again?" he asked, lightly. He looked up to see Draco scowling at him.

"She wants me Blaise. She certainly wants me," he argued strongly, "She's just a stubborn little Gryffindor who won't admit it."

He stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door, much to the chagrin of Blaise, whose ear drums were assaulted by the noise. He sat back in his bed, wondering why Draco couldn't just tell her he fancied her, instead of pushing her to admit it. Then again, it was quite plain.

Draco had similar issues to him in regards to letting people in, and expressing ridiculous feelings. It was one of the reasons they got on so well; they never expected it from the other, and they could tell what the other was feeling without having to say it.

He knew Draco was like him, and wouldn't feel comfortable opening up unless he was certain Granger wouldn't shoot him down. Luna was much more understanding; she had read Blaise like an open book, and he barely had to say anything for her to see who he really was.

Unfortunately for Draco, Hermione was as stubborn as they came, and blinded by hatred, which made it much more difficult for his friend. If Granger admitted how she felt anytime soon, Blaise would be incredibly surprised.

He heard the bathroom door open, and Draco returned looking much less dishevelled but still as moody. He slumped back on his bed and glared at the wall. Blaise sighed, feeling sorry for his friend. He was glad his witch was much more understanding.

"Don't worry mate," Blaise said, trying to placate his friend slightly, "she'll come around eventually."

Draco merely shook his head, and pulled the curtains around his bed so he was out of view. Blaise sighed again and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Blaise found himself sitting at his table in the library, leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. He was supposed to be doing a Herbology assignment, but found himself getting distracted as his thoughts drifted back to last night. Luna.<p>

After the kiss they had parted ways, though it wasn't awkward. He knew things were different between them now, and he couldn't wait to see her again.

He was rudely thrust out of his thoughts by a loud banging sound. He jumped and sat up straight, nearly falling off his chair. Looking across from him he saw Granger with a large pile of book sitting on her table. She looked about as happy as Draco had that morning.

"Just drop those books a little harder next time, Hermione." He said, sarcastically. He was slightly annoyed at being so abruptly dragged from his thoughts of Luna, but pushed the feeling aside.

She looked up at him, with a confused expression, as if just realising he was there. After a moment she shook her head, her expression grim, "Oh I'm sorry, Blaise, I've got a lot on my mind."

Blaise leaned back in his chair, eyeing her with slight interest. "Would this have anything to do with a certain blond haired friend of mine?" he asked, lightly.

Hermione scowled at the mention of Draco, so he assumed it did. She threw herself down in her seat and was barely visible over the large pile of books she'd dropped there just moments before.

"So I'm assuming he told you what happened?" She asked him, bitterly. Blaise raised his brow in interest. Malfoy hadn't told him anything, though he vaguely remembered his friend muttering something about 'sexual assault'. He only hoped that wasn't the case.

"No he didn't, actually. But my interest is certainly piqued."

Hermione peeked around the books, a look of surprise on her face. "Oh," she muttered, and her face began flushing red, "we kissed." She said softly.

Blaise couldn't help the grin that came to his face. "Again?" he asked amusedly, "I don't think you're going to be able to play this one of as a mistake."

Hermione's head shot up and she glared at him. "I wouldn't have told you if you were just going to laugh about it." She snapped.

Blaise chuckled. "Calm down, Granger, I'm just kidding. The important thing is, when are you going to tell him you like him?"

This question seemed to take Hermione by surprise, and she stuttered and gaped at him for a moment, looking as though she was on the verge of throwing something at him, before hissing, "I do _not_ like him!"

"Sounds to me like you do," Blaise said casually, twirling his quill in his fingertips.

"You and he are just as delusional as one another," she said, her voice shaking slightly, "I do _not_ like him. I may have kissed him, but that doesn't mean I like him. It's mere physical attraction. I can admit he's..._ok _looking. It's just my hormones, I read about it. I'm a teenage girls, it's to be expected."

She finished her explanation looking breathless and slightly flustered; her face was also unmistakeably red. Blaise stared at her incredulously.

"You read up on it?" he asked, fighting to keep the grin off is face. Hermione saw this and scowled.

"Shut up." She muttered, grabbing a book off the large pile in front of her and opening it.

Blaise chuckled. "Granger, I'm no expert, but I think if you're worried enough to have to reassure yourself by reading up on it, then you definitely do have a thing for him."

Blaise jumped as Hermione slammed the book shut, and her head fell into her hands. He watched her hesitantly, hoping that he hadn't caused her to have some sort of emotional meltdown. Hesitantly, he reached over and pushed the books out of the way so he could see her better, that's when he realised she was crying.

He wanted to run, to get away as fast as possible. He did not do well with crying women, not at all. But he couldn't do that. Hermione was a friend, a friend that was obviously very upset right now. A friend who meant a lot to _his_ friend.

So instead of walking away like he wanted to, he stood and moved around the table kneeling down next to her. "Hermione. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

She shook her head, while still sobbing quietly.

"I was just playing around. I know you probably don't like him." He assured her, though deep down he knew he didn't really believe that.

This sentence only seemed to make her sob more uncontrollably, and he inwardly cursed himself for his lack of tact. He thought he should probably stop talking since it seemed to only make things worse, so instead he reached up and patted her on the back, hoping it was a comforting gesture.

After a few minutes, her crying stopped and all that could be heard were a few sniffles. Eventually she moved her hand away from her face, and looked down at Blaise who was still kneeling next to her. Her eyes were red and still watery. Blaise felt a pang of guilt go through him.

"I'm sorry," he said, genuinely. Hermione shook her head at him and turned away.

"I wasn't crying because of what you said, Blaise. I'm crying because I'm so angry and ashamed and confused and...Ugh!" She dropped her head back to her hands again, though she didn't cry. Blaise was surprised that she could feel so much at once, but didn't comment on it. Instead he tried to go for a more caring approach.

"Who has you feeling like that?" he asked gently, though he had a feeling he already knew.

Hermione sniffled for a moment, before muttering, "_Him_." Blaise didn't need any clarification of who she was talking about; he only wondered why she was suddenly so emotional over Draco.

"What did he do?" he asked, hesitantly.

Hermione sniffled again, before answering. "Nothing. He hasn't done anything, that's part of the problem."

"...ok." Blaise commented slowly, not sure what she was getting at. After a moment she turned to him fully, looking rather frantic.

"I'm supposed to hate him! After everything he's done to me, I should despise him forever, no matter what he's like now. But I don't, not anymore. I keep trying to make myself hate him, but he just won't stop being nice to me!"

Blaise stared at her with an odd expression, but quickly banished it when she looked back at him.

"Is it a problem that he's being nice to you?" he asked after a moment, feeling thoroughly confused.

"Of course it's a problem," she snapped, "it's making it harder to remember how he used to treat me. I don't want to feel like this about _him_." She hissed the last word as though it were the cause of everything bad that ever happened to her, and in a way he was.

Blaise sat back on his heels staring at her wide eyed. "Hermione," he began, tentatively, "are you saying you like Draco?"

She sat there staring at him with a grim expression and gave a small nod, before she began sobbing again. Blaise felt a rush of excitement go through him for Draco, though he had to admit this was not the way he thought Hermione would react when she admitted her feelings for his friend.

"When are you going to tell him?" he asked, still in slight shock at Hermione's admittance.

Her head shot up and she looked at him as though he'd just told her Arithmancy was pointless. "Are you mental? _Tell him_? Of course I'm not going to tell him, you idiot! I'm just going to wait until this passes and probably look back on it one day and cringe at how stupid I was."

He was surprised at her sudden outburst, but tried to assure himself to remain calm. Emotional girls could be problematic if you provoked them.

"Draco isn't that bad, Hermione, he obviously can't be if you like him, right?"

She sighed in exasperation, "Blaise, listen to me, I'm a teenage girl, he's a guy that keeps snogging me, of course I'm going to feel _something_ eventually. That's as far as it goes. Can you imagine what people would say if they found out? What would Ginny and Neville say? They'd think I was pathetic."

She made a face of disgust, and he assumed it was directed at her own feelings. Blaise felt himself becoming more and more frustrated. "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, Hermione!" he argued back, letting his anger get the better of him, "It only matters what _you_ want."

"I know that," she assured him, looking a little taken aback at his outburst, "and that's why it doesn't matter, because I don't want to feel this. He's an arrogant, egotistical git and he hates me, as if I would tell him ever. It's only temporary insanity."

Blaise cursed in frustration. "He doesn't hate you, Hermione. Isn't that much obvious? You don't go around kissing someone you hate."

She looked away from his gaze. "You do if you're Draco Malfoy." She muttered bitterly.

Blaise shook his head in defeat and stood. "You're in denial, and I know you're angry at yourself and confused and all that, but Draco's my best mate. I know he may seem like a git at times, and he is, but if I thought he was just trying to play games with you, Hermione, I wouldn't encourage him, or you, for that matter."

He wanted badly to tell Hermione exactly how Draco felt, but he couldn't betray his friend like that. Hermione didn't look as though she'd accept it anyway, and he didn't want her to throw it back in his friends face. He packed up his things, aware that Hermione was silently watching him; he didn't know what else to say to her though. This was something she had to think through on her own.

Just as he turned to leave the library with his book bag on his shoulders, he heard her small voice call out to him.

"Blaise?" he turned to see her watching him with furrowed brows. "Why did Malfoy use a Confundus charm on Potter and Weasley?"

Blaise wondered for a moment how she knew that, and hesitated about telling her why. But if Blaise was anything, he was a good friend, and perhaps giving Hermione the knowledge she craved would show her that Draco wasn't as bad as she thought.

"Because of what they did to you," he answered honestly. He could see the shock that passed across her face, but turned and left before she could ask him anymore. He feared he might say something Draco didn't want her to know.

As he left the library and walked up the staircase, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen now. They had both admitted feelings for the other to him, they now just had to get over their pride and let each other know. Blaise knew that part was a whole lot more complicated than it sounded.

After a few minutes of walking and thinking, he found himself brightening when he saw Luna's blue eyes twinkling happily as she waited for him outside the Ravenclaw common room. He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her lips when he reached her, before taking her hand and walking along the corridor.

"So what would you like to do today?" he asked, feeling completely content, "We've got the whole Sunday to ourselves."

Luna hummed in thought for a moment. "Well it's a surprisingly warm day outside, I thought we could go out by the lake and hunt for Nargles."

Blaise smirked at her and shook his head in amusement. "Sounds like a plan."

He at least was happy that not everything had to be horribly complicated.

**A/N:**

**So here it is. I'm sorry it wasn't up sooner, and I'm also sorry the dance wasn't in this chapter, but I had a few things I wanted to happen before then. The Halloween dance will be next chapter, and it should be up sooner than this one since I've got no assignments due any time soon. :)**

**Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. If I actually named my chapters, I would probably call this one "The Day of Snogging" since nearly everyone got frisky, didn't they? Haha**

**At least things are working out for Luna and Blaise, if only I could say the same for Draco and Hermione! But they are also a little more complicated.**

**So let me know what you thought of this, and thanks everyone for reading and reviewing and favouriting and whatnot. I appreciate it.**

**Cheers guys,**

**Leni**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 12**_

_...in which discoveries are made._

* * *

><p>Blaise stood in front of the bathroom mirror adjusting his dress robes for what seemed like the tenth time that night. He was never one to worry so much about his looks, since most of them came naturally, but tonight he wanted to ensure he looked the best he could. It was the Halloween dance, and surprisingly, he was now looking forward to it.<p>

Asking Hermione to the dance had been a good idea, especially since Luna was going with Neville, he was certain Hermione would want to dance with Neville for most of the night, which meant he would dance with Luna as much as he wanted. He was practically bouncing at the thought.

The last few days had been some of the most enjoyable for Blaise. He and Luna were getting along better than he ever hoped, and he was the happiest he'd been in a long time. Unfortunately, not everyone had shared that sentiment.

In every class Blaise had attended since people found out about the odd pairing, he had been the target of whispers and rude remarks about dating 'Loony' Lovegood. He took it in his stride, however, knowing that it was worth it. These people meant nothing to him, and Luna meant everything. After a couple of days, most people found something else to gossip about.

When he'd plucked up the courage to tell Draco, before the rumours had circulated, his friend had stared at him incredulously for a moment, before bursting out in loud guffaws. That went on for a good two minutes before Blaise finally got so annoyed he threw a shoe at the blonds head. Needless to say, that had stopped his laughter.

"You really can pick them," Draco had said amusedly as he rubbed his head. Blaise scowled.

"At least I have the determination to go get my girl despite what everyone thinks," he'd shot back. This had silenced Draco, and despite the fact that it had been a low blow, he knew it needed to be said. Both Draco and Hermione needed to get their acts together.

Blaise had not disclosed any information to Draco about his conversation with Hermione, or her breakdown and confusion about her feelings for him. Despite the fact that Draco was his best mate, he thought it was best to give Hermione time to sort herself out, and see what she really wanted. He was sure if Draco knew, he would push her and push her until eventually he pushed her away completely.

Unfortunately, since that conversation, she was more distant with both of them than she had been previously. In class she didn't so much as look at either Blaise or Draco; she couldn't be found in the library; and even after dinner she raced up the staircase far too quick for Blaise to catch up with her. The only time Blaise had managed to talk to her was on the way out of Potions one day, and that was only to confirm that they were still going to the dance together.

Draco had tried to act as indifferent as possible about her total ignorance toward him, but Blaise saw him watching her every now and then with a disappointed expression; whenever he was caught, however, he'd merely smirk and make a comment about how she'd come around eventually. Blaise knew he wasn't certain he really believed that.

Blaise adjusted his robes for the last time feeling pleased with his appearance. His mother, stepping up to her duties as she did for a few events each year, had sent him a new pair of robes just for the occasion. They were a dark green, almost black, with silver trim. Very Slytherin, indeed. Either way, they suited his black hair and olive skin.

Blaise hadn't really been concerned with what he would wear, but was pleased and thoroughly surprised when he received his mothers' package, especially since he hadn't heard from her in weeks. At least he now knew she was somewhere in Russia, and from the sound of it she was safe and happy.

He stepped out of the bathroom and found Draco lying on his bed in his own black dress robes, looking as miserable as ever.

"You ready yet? You'll wrinkle your robes lying like that." Blaise said, as he sat at the end of his bed. Draco merely raised an eyebrow.

"Since when are you such a girl?" Draco asked bemusedly.

Blaise grinned, Draco's comments had always amused him. "Maybe I just wanna look good. I've got a girl to impress. And so do you." He added, staring pointedly at his friend.

"Who, Pansy?" he made a sick face, "Tonight is going to be shit. I should have saved some Polyjuice potion so I could get Granger to dance with me. The only way she'd even look at me is if I was you."

Blaise sighed. "You can't keep relying on stuff like that to get her, mate."

"Yeah, well, it's either that or I start hexing her again. You pick." Draco muttered, standing and stretching slightly.

"You wouldn't do that either," Blaise said with a smirk, "you've gotten too attached to snogging her, and that would ensure you never did again."

Draco gave Blaise a scathing look, when there was a knock on the door. Draco groaned miserably as Blaise opened it, shaking his head at his friends' lack of enthusiasm.

There, in the doorway, stood Pansy Parkinson in an emerald green dress that really didn't leave much to the imagination. She was also wearing far too much perfume. Blaise choked on a whiff of it as she stepped into the room.

"Are you ready to go, Draco? Nearly everybody's gone." She said sweetly. Blaise noticed she stuck her exposed cleavage out slightly. Was that supposed to be sexy?

Blaise heard Draco sigh, and with one brush of his robes he was over at the door. Pansy immediately latched onto his arm, causing him to share a pained expression with Blaise, who was walking on his other side.

They strolled up the steps, listening to Pansy rave on about how fat Emily Mendel, Pansy's dorm mate, had looked in her dress, until finally after what seemed like forever, they reached the entrance hall where many couple were chatting to each other, dressed in their finest robes.

"I'll see you guy's in a sec," Blaise said, heading toward the staircase. He had arranged to meet Hermione there, and escort her down to the hall.

"Blaise?" He heard Pansy's whiny voice call out to him plainly. He turned on the spot and raised his eyebrows in question. Pansy was giving him a pointed look, while Draco was looking around as though he would rather be anywhere but next to her.

"You're not taking Loony Lovegood are you?" She asked him, a look of disgust and disapproval on her face.

"No, she already had a date," he said as patiently as possible, "I'm taking Hermione Granger."

He took pleasure in the way Pansy's face contorted into surprise, then disbelief, then disgust. "Granger? Tell me you're kidding. Blaise, do you have some sort of fetish for nerdy, weird girls or something?"

Blaise opened his mouth to retort angrily, but was interrupted by Draco's impatient voice.

"Would you leave the man alone, Pansy? He can date and talk to whoever he wants. Lucky bastard." He muttered under his breath.

Blaise smirked at his friends comment. Draco merely shrugged, before leaning in to whisper, "Go get your date already, I don't want to be alone with Pansy for too long, she might start discussing marriage."

They both chuckled at the reality of that possibility, before Draco turned back to Pansy, who began pestering him about what was so funny. Blaise happily left the couple downstairs, as he headed towards Gryffindor tower to meet Hermione.

* * *

><p>"Ouch, Ginny! There's no need to pull my hair out," Hermione grumbled as Ginny fussed with her hair, pulling and pinning it into place.<p>

The red head had insisted on helping Hermione get ready for the dance, especially after Hermione had picked up a bottle of hair smoothing potion and asked what it was. The older Gryffindor was grateful for the younger girls' help, especially since she had no idea how to do her hair or makeup nicely. Hermione had actually planned to throw her dress on and go as it was. Ginny had nearly had an aneurysm when she heard, and had been dolling her up for the past half an hour.

"Beauty is pain," Ginny commented distractedly, as she pinned up the last of Hermione's hair. With a quick wave of Ginny's wand, Hermione felt her head tingle and looked wide eyed at the girl.

"What was that?" She asked, panicking slightly. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Relax, it was just a charm to keep your hair from falling out all night."

Hermione visibly relaxed. "So it's done?"

Ginny nodded and grinned. "Yes, and you look amazing, if I do say so myself."

Hermione assumed Ginny was just being nice, but when she looked in the mirror she had to admit for the first time in her life that she looked, well, _pretty_. Her makeup was done naturally, so a few freckles across her nose stood out on her skin, and her eye makeup looked effortless but sultry, with slight browns giving her a smoky eye. Her lips were a subtle red to give her, as Ginny had put it, a 'just snogged' look.

Her hair was no longer a frizz, but Ginny had somehow managed to separate her curls and smooth them out into soft waves. They were pinned back in a half-up do, flowing down her back. All in all, Hermione was impressed at Ginny's skills, and the way she looked.

"We should go put our dresses on now, it's time to go." Ginny said, interrupting Hermione utter shock at her reflection.

Hermione nodded and stepped into the bathroom with her dress. Her mother had picked it out a few days before in a muggle store, and Hermione had to send an owl from school just to return with the package. Hermione had only opened it up to see the colour, and hadn't yet tried it on.

Hermione and her mother were close friends; in fact her mother reminded her a lot of Ginny, in the way that she was beautiful and exuded confidence. They also both loved fashion, and despite Hermione's mother being a dentist, she still managed to keep her style and grace.

Hermione had always wondered why she couldn't have the same attributes as her mother, other than intelligence. She took after her father in most ways, especially the hair. Despite this, her mother had always accepted that her daughter was more bookish than stylish and hadn't tried to change her, and only help her when she needed it.

That was why Hermione, who was currently slipping the wine-red gown over her hips, was slightly curious as to what her mother meant when she had written that it would 'accentuate her best assets'. As Hermione zipped up the side of the dress, she now understood what her mother meant, and groaned miserably.

The dress was strapless, with a heart-shaped bodice. The skirt, which hugged her hips quite tightly, flowed down to the floor, flaring out slightly at the bottom. Around her waist was a satin ribbon of light red, which tied in a bow at the back and flowed down at the back a little below her bum.

It was an undeniably beautiful dress, but there was one evident problem. It pushed certain _attributes_ into focus more than others. Hermione looked down at her cleavage and groaned again. She should have expected this from her mother.

She attempted to flatten them, to push them away more, but it was useless. This dress was merely made to make the wearer look extremely well endowed. Hermione could only imagine what people would say when they saw her. They'd probably wonder where those things popped up from; _she_ wasn't even sure where they'd popped up from.

She sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she would merely have to grin and bear it. At least she still looked classy and graceful. She stepped out of the bathroom in time to see Ginny zipping up the back of her sky blue dress. Hermione felt slightly better, knowing she wouldn't be the only one exposed. Ginny's dress was also quite low-cut and had a split going up the side that revealed a little bit of leg.

The red head turned toward her, and Hermione was certain that she had finally had that aneurysm.

"You look amazing!" She breathed, taking in Hermione's dress, before stopping at her chest. "I didn't even know you had boobs!"

Hermione blushed, and put her hands over her chest. "Please don't draw attention to them. I'm hoping they go unnoticed."

Ginny shook her head, a mischievous smile on her face, "Sorry, Hermione. But I think the whole of the Great hall is going to stop when you walk in. Perhaps the whole wizarding world. You might even see an article in tomorrow's Daily Prophet; 'Hermione Granger Has Boobs: Hogwarts male students pleased at discovery'."

She began chuckling as Hermione glared, looking unamused. "Oh I'm just kidding," the younger girl assured her, patting her on the arm, "You look great. I think Blaise is going to faint when he see's you. He might even break up with Luna for you!"

Hermione snorted at that, and then grimaced at the thought of Blaise. She hadn't really spoken to him since the incident in the library. She was rather embarrassed about her actions and what she had confessed, and hadn't really wanted to hang around long enough to know if he'd passed the discovery on to Draco.

Draco. That was another person she wasn't looking forward to seeing tonight, and no doubt being Blaise's date, she would. She had spent many hours mulling over what Blaise had said; Draco had hexed Weasley and Potter because of what they'd done to her. She had tried to play it off as a lie, but Blaise had seemed sincere when he told her. She had also tried to find a number of other excuses to explain his behaviour, but still she found no other reason then maybe her unwanted feelings weren't one sided.

She wasn't sure if the feeling in her stomach when she had realised that was trepidation or excitement.

* * *

><p>Blaise walked up the stairs, approaching the Portrait to the Gryffindor common room. He was a few feet away when he saw it swing open, and a surprisingly put-together Neville Longbottom stepped out in dark blue robes. The teen started heading swiftly in the other direction, and Blaise jogged toward him and called out.<p>

"Oi, Longbottom!"

Neville turned slightly to look at who had called him, before his expression turned slightly guarded. "What do you want, Zabini?" he asked, sounding rather suspicious.

Blaise crossed his arms and attempted to look intimidating, though he felt a little bad, knowing the teen had never personally done anything to him. Except for stealing his table that one time in the library. Blaise narrowed his eyes at the memory.

"When you dance with Luna, you keep your hands above the waist, or else."

Neville turned fully to stare at him for a moment with an odd expression, before turning and muttering, "Yeah. Ok."

Blaise was feeling quite pleased with himself, until he heard someone clear their throat behind him. He turned around and came face to face with Hermione, Ginny and a boy he recognised as Cormac McLaggen, keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, all staring at him with odd expressions.

"Well you Slytherins certainly are wankers," Ginny commented bitterly, "threatening Neville of all people? He wouldn't hurt a fly."

Blaise had the decency to look sheepish, as they turned and began walking down the stairs. Ginny was on Cormac's arm as they strolled down, and Blaise held his own out for Hermione, which she seemed to hesitantly latch on to.

They walked in silence for a moment, before Hermione spoke.

"You don't have to worry about Neville," She assured him quietly, "he's not like other guys."

"Yeah, I know," Blaise admitted, "but he _is_ going to the dance with _my_ girlfriend."

Hermione chuckled. "You'll get to dance with her. They should be down soon actually; Neville's just gone to get her. I'm sure you'll be inseparable the whole night."

He turned to smile at her, and noticed for the first time how nice she looked. He took in her dress, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he noticed her chest. He quickly looked back at her face, a shocked expression on his own.

"What?" she questioned self consciously, noticing his odd expression.

"That's a very...uh, flattering dress." He commented awkwardly.

In front of them, Ginny chuckled. "It certainly isn't _flattening_." The red head joked.

Hermione groaned and pulled her arm out of Blaise's so she could cross them both over her chest. He stopped walking, seeing how embarrassed and uncomfortable she seemed.

"You can barely notice," he lied, trying to comfort her. She gave him a disbelieving look.

"Ok, you can notice them a bit, but I mean, I don't think many guys will be complaining. Besides, you haven't seen what Pansy's wearing; she may as well have just stuck a couple of bits of Spello-tape over her nipples."

This elicited a laugh from Hermione, and she moved her arms to her sides, though she still looked slightly uncomfortable.

"It's just that people aren't used to seeing so much of the resident book-worm. It's a bit of a shock to know you were hiding such things away." He said, nudging her playfully with his elbow.

She stuck her tongue out at him and gripped his arm again. They continued their way down the stairs, realising that Ginny and her date had left them behind.

The pair entered the packed Entrance Hall some minutes later, and Hermione blushed slightly as multiple eyes turned to her in shock. She sent a couple of glares at a few boys whose eyes wondered more south-ward then her face, but overall the attention felt nice; especially since she was normally over looked by the male population.

"I don't believe it," she heard someone gasp from the crowd next to her.

She turned to find Lavender gaping between her and Blaise, looking as though she just took a bludger to the head. Her expression turned to a scowl, however, when Hopkins sauntered forward, staring pointedly at Hermione's cleavage. She cringed, feeling the urge to squirm under his stare; it was only when he was a two feet away, did his eyes flick to her face.

"Hermione," he breathed, pulling her into a tight hug, "you look...bloody _hot_."

She laughed nervously, as he released her and gave her a once over, very slowly, with his eyes. "Thanks, Wayne. You look great, too."

Blaise stood impatiently, glaring slightly at Hopkins. He had made a silent promise to Draco to keep him away from Hermione, and he was also getting annoyed at the way he was leering. Didn't this guy at least know the art of subtlety?

Hopkins leaned forward, gripping Hermione at the waist and whispered in her ear, "I expect a dance later." He winked pointedly at her, and Hermione gave a tight smile at the action.

A moment later he was dragged off by a furious looking Lavender, and Blaise didn't hesitate in taking Hermione's arm and tugging her in the other direction. She watched him as he pulled her along, a confused expression on her face.

"What are you doing?" She asked, attempting to tug her arm away so he was no longer pulling her along.

"You aren't gonna dance with that sleaze, are you?" he asked, slowing down slightly, though he still held her arm.

"Probably not." She answered, uncertainly.

"Hermione, listen to me," he said, plainly, "Hopkins is a sleaze. He's an ass. He just wants sex."

She snorted. "Ninety-nine percent of guys just want sex Blaise, I'm experienced enough to know that."

He glanced at her slightly, wondering what she meant by 'experienced'. "I'm just saying, you might wanna stay away from his sort."

Hermione sighed. "You can't judge a book by its cover. After all, you look like you should be one of those types."

He shrugged. "You can't judge a book by its cover, but you get a pretty good idea of their intentions when they leer at you like that."

She watched him curiously, as he searched the crowded hall. "Why would it matter to you?"

He sighed, and turned to her. "Because it happens to my mother a lot, she not very good at picking them. I don't like it when guys treat women like that." He answered feeling slightly uncomfortable at revealing something so personal.

He began pulling her through the crowd again, and this time Hermione didn't protest or struggle. She was deep in thought about Blaise and his mother, and how he cared enough to protect her from that same thing. Perhaps not _all_ Slytherins were wankers.

"Just try to stay away from him," he said, after a moment.

"Stay away from whom?" A silky voice interrupted.

Hermione inwardly groaned as the sound washed over her, and she tried to back away from the group. Unfortunately, Blaise seemed to notice and held her there with his hand on her arm. She glared at him, but he managed not to notice _that_.

"Just Hopkins," Blaise answered, sending a pointed look toward Draco. The other boy scowled, before turning his attention toward Hermione to speak.

His words, however, seemed to get lost in his throat when he looked at her. Hermione watched as he took in her dress, and unlike Hopkins, it didn't feel uncomfortable or perverted. She felt, well, _pretty_ under his gaze.

He leaned in slightly, and whispered, "I don't remember them being that big when I felt them in the library. Perhaps I should double check sometime?"

"And there's the arrogance." Hermione sniffed indignantly and looked away. So much for being a gentleman. When she glanced at his face a second later, she saw him watching her with a small smile, and for some odd reason, she relaxed slightly.

That is until Pansy's shrill voice interrupted the silent interaction. The girl had just walked to Draco's side and was looking Hermione up and down.

"Wow, Granger, don't you look different when your face isn't pressed in a book. And you somehow managed to tame that bushy thing you call hair. How sweet."

Hermione blushed slightly out of humiliation, before narrowing her eyes at the girl. "I see you at least had the decency to wear a strip of cloth tonight. How classy of you."

Blaise snorted, and he shared an amused look with Draco who was looking as though Christmas had come early. Blaise was about to ask why, but was interrupted when Draco turned and began speaking to a blonde girl that was walking past. Blaise recognised her as Emily Mendel, the girl Pansy had been talking about as they walked here.

"Emily," Draco said in a charming voice, which had Blaise watching suspiciously, "Pansy was wrong. You don't look fat at all."

Blaise watched on with a mixture of sympathy and amusement as Emily looked shocked for a moment, before stepping toward Pansy, looking like she might rip her head off; he didn't get to see the showdown between them though, as Draco pulled him away a few metres, Blaise inadvertently dragged Hermione along too.

"Well, now that we've got that dragon occupied for a few minutes...," Draco said, happily, pulling a silver flask out of his pocket and taking a sip.

Blaise grinned as Hermione sputtered indignantly, before looking around frantically. "That better be pumpkin juice!" She hissed at the blond.

Draco smirked at her. "Nope, it's something a little stronger. Want some?" he held the flask out to her, wiggling it invitingly. Hermione quickly snatched it and stuck it back into his pocket, before any teachers could see.

"Stop waving that thing around," she hissed angrily, "You're a prefect, and so am I! We could lose our badges."

He smirked at her. "Ever the responsible one," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

Hermione sighed, and turned to Blaise. "I'm going to go find Neville. Please try to control him." She said, nodding toward Draco, who had the audacity to look offended. With that she walked off into the ever-thickening crowd.

"Real smooth," Blaise commented dryly, after she had left. Draco shrugged.

"No point in pretending to be someone else, right mate?" Draco replied, lightly, "And besides, did you see her before with Pansy? I think she might be jealous that Pansy's my date."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, "Or maybe she just hates Pansy, and wasn't going to let her speak to her like that?" he stated obviously.

"Nope. She wants me." Draco said simply, looking rather cocky. Blaise knew this was somewhat true, but merely shook his head.

"You're delusional." He commented, smirking at his friends' rare optimism.

"Funny that," Draco said, grinning slightly, "you're not the first person who's told me that."

* * *

><p>The students made their way into the hall a moment later, ready for the festivities. The hall was decorated with pumpkins, some of them singing jack-o-lanterns, and paper bats that flew across the enchanted ceiling. The tables were filled with platters of delicious food and drink, which had everyone's stomach grumbling at the sight.<p>

The normal house etiquette went out the window, with Ravenclaws sitting at the Hufflepuff table, and Slytherins at the Ravenclaw table. When Blaise walked in, he spotted Hermione, Neville and a lovely looking Luna at the Gryffindor table, so he made his way over there. Draco attempted to follow but was quickly pulled away by a not-so-pleased looking Pansy to the Slytherin table.

Blaise shared a sympathetic look with his friend as he sat next to Luna. He placed a quick kiss on her cheek, revelling in the way her hair tickled his face.

"You look dashing," she complimented, smiling brightly at him. He returned it.

"You look amazing," he said back. It was true. Despite the fact she was wearing a rather odd looking dress, that made her look like a large silver bell, she still outshone everyone there, in Blaise's opinion.

Hermione watched the interaction between Blaise and Luna with a small smile on her face. When she had heard they were together, she hadn't been that surprised, but she was certainly happy for Luna. The fact that Blaise had disregarded everyone's opinions and snide remarks about Luna, and was willing to make himself a target just to be with her had warmed Hermione's heart.

She wondered if she would ever meet someone who was willing to do that for her. Maybe one day someone would like her for her book-worm, know-it-all tendencies, and not despite them. She smiled to herself as Blaise and Luna shared another kiss.

"Looks like we'll be stuck with each other tonight," she commented to Neville, chuckling slightly at the pair across from them.

Neville grinned. "I figured as much. I can't promise you kisses or romance, but I think you'll agree I make a wicked dance partner."

Hermione smiled. "You haven't stepped on my toes once in the past Nev, let's hope tonight's no different."

The Headmaster stood, and the hall full of excited chatter went quiet, each individual turning their attention to the elderly wizard.

"Tonight we come together to celebrate a long tradition, not only in our world, but also the muggle world." Dumbledore said, his voice echoing around the quiet hall. "For us, Halloween is a time of celebration for all things magical that we hold dear to us. Now let us begin this night of delight with a wonderful feast. Dig in!"

With that, everybody began to eat the delicious food in front of them. Around the hall, the sounds of goblets clinking in toast and people laughing happily filled the room. Hermione and Neville were sharing a particularly amusing conversation with Luna and Blaise.

Luna was regaling them with a story of how she and Blaise had gone Nargle hunting, and in an attempt to reach a very precariously positioned mistletoe, Blaise had ended up falling in the Black lake. Hermione didn't really know what a Nargle was, but had laughed uncontrollably at the description of Blaise flailing around in the water, screeching that the Giant Squid was going to get him. Blaise had looked rather sheepish at this.

After everyone had eaten there fill, the tables cleared and everyone stood as Dumbledore transfigured the four long tables into benches that sat against the walls. The lights dimmed until the only illumination was from the many candles floating above, and the moon on the enchanted ceiling above them.

All of a sudden, a waltz began playing, and despite the fact that many students groaned at the choice of music, they paired off and began dancing.

Hermione was paired with Neville for the first few dances, and they both laughed as he led her around the hall in steps that didn't match the music at all.

"You're losing your touch," Hermione joked in between chuckles, as he dipped her at the waist.

"Me? Losing my touch? Never!"

Hermione had began laughing again as he pulled her back up straight. Across his shoulder she spotted a flash of blonde hair, and watched Draco dancing rather stiffly with Pansy, who had her whole body pressed against him. Hermione snorted and shook her head, trying to ignore the little feeling of annoyance that welled up within her at the sight.

After a few more dances with Neville, Luna and Blaise approached them and they swapped partners. While Blaise's dancing was much less fun than Neville's, she had to admit he was good at it, and quickly began enjoying herself.

Blaise, who had been enjoying his dance with Luna, had felt a little guilty for not dancing with Hermione yet, even though she looked as though she were having more fun than anyone in the whole room. He and Luna agreed to go back to their official dates, at least for a while.

Blaise spun Hermione, and found himself next to Draco, who was still dancing with Pansy. The blond nodded in greeting, though he had a miserable expression on his face. Blaise smirked at him.

"Hook in," he mouthed with a smirk, nodding toward Pansy, who practically had her face buried in the crook of his neck.

Draco scowled at him, and mouthed, "Piss off, wanker."

Blaise couldn't help but chuckle, and Hermione, feeling him shaking as he laughed looked at him curiously. She saw him looking over her head and when she turned she found herself face to face with Draco, who was scowling at Blaise for some reason.

Noticing her gaze, Draco looked down at her and gave her a tired look, motioning toward Pansy. Hermione was quite taken aback by the casual interaction, as if they didn't have years of animosity behind them and were merely sharing a joke over a girl who couldn't take a hint. When had everything changed so much?

After a few more dances, in which Blaise and Draco were having a silent conversation over their date's heads, Draco eventually managed to free himself from Pansy and escaped toward the refreshment table. Blaise had agreed when Neville stepped in to dance with Hermione, and followed his friend. Looking around the room, he found Luna in conversation with Professor Flitwick, who was looking thoroughly confused at whatever she was explaining. Blaise smiled at the sight, before turning to Draco.

"Having fun?" he asked casually, already knowing the answer.

Draco gave him a scathing look. "What do you think? Not all of us get to grind against Granger all night."

Blaise chuckled. "I was doing no such thing. The only person I'd even want to grind against is-,"

"Ok. I get it. Shut up. I don't want to picture Loony doing that." He said, looking thoroughly turned off. Blaise narrowed his eyes, but chose to ignore his friends comment, instead focusing his attention on scooping some punch into a goblet.

He sipped at the drink, watching as Draco slipped something out of his pocket. "Come stand here, and make sure McGonagall isn't looking."

Blaise narrowed his eyes slightly. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

Draco held out a flask and shook it enticingly, "I thought it might make the night go a little quicker."

Blaise sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's not even going to do anything. It'll just get watered down."

Draco grinned, before pulling out an almost identical flask. "This Firewhiskey would get watered down; it's what I was drinking before." He said slipping the flask back in his pocket, and taking the top off the other. "This, however, is Single-malt Firewhiskey. This will be perfect."

He held the flask out slightly and motioned for Blaise to smell it. Blaise hesitated, noticing the mischievous glint in his friends' eye, before he leaned forward and breathed in the fumes emanating from the flask.

Immediately, his nose burned and he leaned forward as he began spluttering and coughing uncontrollably. "Merlin's...Fucking...beard," he wheezed, feeling his throat still burning.

Next to him, he heard Draco chuckle. "I would take the piss out of you for that display, mate, but that was my exact reaction when I first smelt it, too."

Blaise stood straight and eyed Draco, his nose still burning slightly. "Where did you get that, anyway?"

"Stole some from my father. The fool left his liquor case unlocked during the holidays. It's like he thinks he can trust me or something." Draco mused, smirking slightly.

Blaise smirked back. "I bet he noticed. I reckon he'll get you at Christmas, you just wait."

Draco shrugged, though he looked more serious at the thought. "Shall we?" he said, motioning to the bowl of punch.

"You can't put _all_ of that in there," Blaise hissed at him, "people won't just be tipsy, they'll be passed out on the floor."

Draco sighed. "I know that Zabini. Half should do it. You'll be thanking me when Luna gets all...well, let's not go there, but you'll be thanking me."

Blaise scoffed, "I'm not letting Luna drink that." He grabbed a goblet and scooped some of the un-spiked punch into it for Luna. Draco shook his head, looking shocked, before scooping out his own un-spiked drink.

"You're fetching her drinks now? Bloody hell..."

Blaise scowled at his friend, "Just get on with it before I change my mind."

Draco did as instructed and tipped the flask over the bowl of punch, before stirring it in with the ladle. He finished with a triumphant smirk on his face, and slipped the silver object back into his robes. Blaise eyed him warily, before looking at the punch.

"I think you put too much in," he said, leaning forward over the bowl.

Draco scoffed. "Don't be stupid, Zabini. I only put half in." The blond leaned forward slightly to see if there was noticeable smell of alcohol coming from the punch bowl.

"What are we looking at?" A dreamy voice sounded from behind them. Both boys turned quickly to find Luna, Hermione and Neville standing before them. Luna was looking curious, Neville looked apprehensive, and Hermione looked suspicious.

"Uh, nothing," Blaise replied quickly, "we were just getting some drinks."

"Oh, so are we," Luna chirped. She moved forward, grabbing a goblet, but Blaise snatched it from her hand. She looked up at him surprised.

"I already got you one," he explained with a smile, handing her the goblet of un-spiked punch. She smiled back at him, before taking a sip.

Hermione and Neville were now at the table serving themselves drinks. Hermione had just filled hers, when Draco bumped her quite hard, causing her to spill it on the floor. She looked up, glaring.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked hotly.

"Didn't see you there, Granger," he said as an excuse, she gave him an odd look, "here." He pushed his own goblet of un-spiked punch into her hands.

She looked down at the drink suspiciously, before looking back at him. "I'm not drinking this; you probably spiked it." She accused.

Blaise and Draco shared a meaningful look.

"He didn't do anything to it," Blaise assured her. She glanced back down at the drink for a moment, and back to Draco, before sighing and drinking it.

Next to her, Neville slammed his goblet down on the table, looking invigorated. They all stared at him oddly, though only Blaise and Draco knew why he would be looking like that. Neville picked up his goblet and refilled it, downing the concoction in a few seconds.

"This stuff really packs a punch," he commented off-handedly to Hermione, who was watching him with curiosity.

"Punch that packs a punch," Luna chuckled, "How funny."

Draco glanced at Blaise with an expression that clearly said he was questioning Luna's sanity more so than he had previously. Blaise merely shrugged, and put an arm around his blonde witch.

After a moment, and another goblet of punch, Neville and Hermione retreated back into the crowd. Neville began dancing outrageously, while Hermione stood watching on unsure of how to react. Blaise and Draco shared a look, though the latter looked more amused than anything.

"Oh look! There's Ginny!" Luna said, racing off into the crowd. She and Ginny began dancing, while Cormac McLaggen looked on rather awkwardly at Luna's..._unique_ dancing skills.

After a moment of watching this with amusement, Blaise and Draco were joined at the refreshment table by Weasley and Potter, who looked rather dishevelled and sweaty.

"Fun night?" Weasley asked casually, as he filled a goblet.

Draco scoffed. "If you call having Pansy practically mount me on the dance floor fun, then yes, I'm a having a smashing time," he replied sarcastically. The other Silver marauders sniggered at his expense.

"At least you'll get lucky," Potter said, miserably, "my date's making me go to Hogsmeade with her before I get any."

"Speaking of dates," Weasley said suddenly, "I have to admit, Granger is looking fit. Who knew she had such a body hidden under those robes? I should have been nicer to her..." he added, gazing off wistfully into the crowd.

Blaise elbowed Draco in the side, who was openly scowling at the red head. Draco sent him a dirty look before leaning against the table, his fists slightly clenched.

"I reckon," Potter agreed enthusiastically, "It must be something about the weird, nerdy girls. Blaise here has the idea, don't you, mate? Luna must be great in the sack."

Blaise now understood how Draco had felt just moments before, and resisted the urge to punch the bespectacled boys' lights out. "Like I'd tell you," he retorted hotly.

The truth was, he and Luna had not yet reached that stage in their relationship yet, and even if they had, Blaise was not one to discuss his sexual exploitations with his friends, not even Draco. Though that didn't mean they felt the same. He'd heard things from them that had made him unable to look into the eyes of certain witches after that.

Weasley and Potter chuckled.

"Bit protective, mate? She must be _really_ good then." Potter said slyly. Blaise sent him a look which silenced him immediately.

"All I know is Hopkins is one lucky guy if he got to see that," Weasley said enthusiastically.

"It's Granger, Weasley, shut up," Draco reminded him, scowling. Blaise knew it was taking all the blonds' self control not to thump him.

The red head shrugged. "So? With sex it doesn't matter who she is the next day, as long as she's not still in my bed." Both Potter and Weasley began chuckling slyly.

Blaise could feel the anger radiating off Draco, and mused that Weasley and Potter must be pretty thick not to notice the tension. After a moment, the two guffawing boys' chuckles subsided. They sat their goblets down and turned to the other pair.

"We're off then," Potter said, "can't leave our dates waiting."

With that they left, and dissolved back into the crowd.

"You've gotta stop being so obvious," Blaise informed his friend. "You don't want anyone to know about you and Granger, do you?"

"Course not," Draco replied, "It'd practically be a death sentence."

Blaise sighed. "If that's the case, why even pursue her?"

Draco turned to look at him with a scowl on his aristocratic face. "I don't pursue. I just happen to come upon her at times and we snog a little."

"You like her, though," Blaise accused. Draco shrugged, though he looked far from relaxed.

"Something like that," he said quietly. "Doesn't change things though. I like snogging her, and she doesn't make me want to rip my hair out, but that's as far as it can go."

"I honestly thought you were changing the way you see things," Blaise said, his disappointed tone laced with frustration.

"I'll never change, mate," Draco said, almost bitterly. "I'll only manage to forget myself at times, but I'll be right back to being that same old wanker, eventually."

Blaise looked at his friend, surprised that he would admit such a fault.

"Then leave her," Blaise ordered, rather forcefully. "If you're just going to fuck around and have a bit of fun, you're best to just leave her alone. Don't be such a selfish prick. It's not all meaningless for others like it is for you."

"I _am_ a selfish prick," Draco informed him. "I'd be lying if I said I haven't been acting on selfish impulses the whole time."

"Then _leave_ her alone," Blaise insisted again, even more strongly. Draco eyed him for a moment, and he almost looked as though her were going to agree.

"I can't," he muttered.

"Cant or wont?" Blaise asked, sceptically. There was a moment of silence in which Blaise thought he might not answer.

"Both," Draco replied after a moment, rather stubbornly.

Blaise sighed, running his hand through his shaggy hair in frustration. "I only encourage you because I'm hoping she'll change you, but sometimes I wonder if you give a shit about anything or anyone else."

Draco eyed him intently, almost as if he were having an internal struggle. After a moment he merely shrugged. "That's the difference between you and I, Zabini, you wonder about things and I just do them."

"That's not always a good thing."

"It's good enough for me;" Draco replied lightly. "Granger has choices. If she chooses to spend her time with me, then I'm certainly not going to question it for her own benefit."

"I will though, you know that I will," Blaise warned him, his voice low and meaningful. Draco glanced at him through narrowed eyes.

"If you'd want to betray your best mate like that, sure," Draco replied tersely. "But I don't see what the problem is; if I got Granger, it's not like I'd hurt her."

"Physically, no, but in other ways I guarantee you probably would. I fully support the whole thing, but I won't let you fuck around with her. She's too good to be another one of those girls you fuck around with."

Draco stared back at Blaise for a moment before looking away and shaking his head. Blaise knew he was pissed off, not only because of Blaise questioning his intentions, but also because of the fact that he'd said he would stop him if he was anything but honourable.

"You think you know me Zabini," Draco began after a moment, "and you do. But there are some things that only _I_ know. You think I have some different way of living, of doing things, and I do, but it doesn't mean I don't see things the way they are, and the way other people do. I know the moral code; I just choose not to follow it. That doesn't mean I set out to ruin everything I lay eyes on. You seem to think I'm like my father in that respect. "

Blaise sighed; knowing that to bring up his father in that way meant that Draco was serious. He hadn't meant to undermine his friend and assume the worst in him, but he was so adamantly against him treating Hermione with such carelessness that he hadn't been able to hold back the anger. Every time he thought of it, he just saw his mother coming home after one particular holiday with her lover, covered in bruises.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Blaise pleaded. "I just...you know how I am when it comes to this stuff."

Draco inspected him for a moment, "I'm not going to beat her up, Zabini, I'm not like that stupid muggle your mother fell in love with."

Blaise flinched slightly at the mention of the incident, and went to agree, but his focus was moved from Draco when he saw a rather wobbly Neville Longbottom stop at the other side of the refreshment table and fill a goblet. Blaise side stepped Draco, and moved the teen's side, removing the goblet from his hand.

"I don't think you should drink anymore of that, mate," Blaise insisted, as Neville looked as though he were going to protest, "Where's Luna and Hermione?"

Neville looked as though he were struggling to focus on Blaise face. "I was just dancing with Luna; Hermione went off somewhere with Wayne Hopkins."

Blaise glanced around to see Draco stand up straight and stride over to the teen, looking rather annoyed.

"Where'd they go?" The blond asked. Neville looked at him curiously, obviously wondering why Draco of all people was asking about Hermione.

"I dunno," Neville answered, slurring his words slightly. "They left the hall."

Blaise and Draco shared a look, before striding toward the great hall doors.

Outside Hermione was watching Hopkins hesitantly. He had offered to dance with her, which she had reluctantly agreed to, and then he had suggested the take a walk outside. She had disagreed to that, but he had merely put his arm around her and pulled her out the door, even as she had protested.

She was now strolling along the corridor outside the hall, glancing at him occasionally out of the corner of her eye. He looked, well, out of it.

"Are you ok, Wayne? You look kind of...sick." That was one way to describe it. He was swaying slightly on his feet, his eyes glazed over, and a layer of sweat on his forehead.

He turned to her and gave her a rather goofy lopsided grin. "I'm fine, Hermione. Someone must have spiked the punch." He joked, chuckling.

She laughed hesitantly, the idea conjuring images of countless teen movies she'd seen. She stopped suddenly, remembering how odd Draco and Blaise had been acting around the refreshment table. Draco had a flask. She could feel the rage wash over her as she realised that it was probably why Neville was acting so odd.

"I have to go, I've got to speak to McGonagall," she said, barely containing her anger. To get yourself drunk was one thing, but to spike the drinks of countless others was just ridiculous. Hermione didn't care if they got in trouble; she was a prefect, and unlike Malfoy, she didn't let things like this happen.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Hopkins grabbed her wrist. "Don't go," he drawled, "I know you like me."

Hermione looked at him oddly, before taking a nervous breath. "As a friend, yes."

He furrowed his brow. "I thought it was more than that?"

"Well...I was confused for a while there...but I know that I don't have those sorts of feelings for you. I'm sorry...Lavender is much better suited to you."

"Did Zabini say something?" he asked, looking annoyed. Hermione shook her head, eyeing him with a quizzical expression.

"What? Why would Blaise-,"

"Oi, Hopkins!" A voice interrupted her from down the corridor. She turned to find Blaise and Draco headed towards them, both looked as though they were ready to rip heads off.

"What the hell do you want, Malfoy?" Hopkins hissed back. Obviously acting on liquid courage, Hermione thought, shaking her head.

Draco laughed shortly. "Well isn't this a sight to behold," he said, looking between Hermione and Wayne, "hope we didn't interrupt anything."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his innuendo, "I was just leaving to find McGonagall actually. Hopkins here seems a little drunk; seems to think the punch was spiked. How unoriginal, don't you think?"

Blaise had the decency to look guilty, but Draco merely met her stare, unflinching. "I bet Hopkins here is disappointed to hear that; I bet he thought he was gonna get some." He goaded, completely ignoring her accusation.

"Piss off," Hopkins shot at him. Draco chuckled, it was low and menacing.

"What's the matter? You didn't actually think she wanted you, did you?" he asked, barely containing his chuckles.

Hopkins shrugged. "What's it to you?" he asked, before his face turned to one of realisation, and he almost couldn't contain his mirth. "_You_ want her don't you? Bet your Death Eater daddy is proud of that." Hopkins cooed in a teasing voice. Hermione groaned inwardly, remembering the last time she'd made a similar comment.

In what seemed like a second, Draco had grabbed Hopkins by the collar of his shirt and slammed him harshly against the stone wall. Hopkins winced in pain, as a resounding crack echoed around the empty corridor.

"Remember who you're talking to," Draco hissed in the teens face, angrily. Blaise was there trying to pry his friend away from the other boy, whose face was fast growing red with anger.

"I know exactly who I'm talking to; a scum-of-the-earth fuck-wit," Hopkins growled through clenched teeth.

Blaise was quick enough to grab Draco's arm before his fisted hand made contact with Hopkins nose. He dragged Draco back across to the opposite wall of the corridor. "Calm the fuck down," Blaise muttered to his friend, before turning his attention back to Hopkins.

"Just go, and stay away from Granger from now on," he said, hoping to kill two birds with one stone.

Hopkins turned to him with an incredulous expression, and Blaise immediately knew he was going to regret those words. "That's funny, 'cause if I recall correctly, you were the one who _paid_ me to take her to Hogsmeade in the first place."

Blaise could feel the tension in the small space grow immediately, and as Hopkins left them, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere but there with them. Blaise dropped his hand from Draco's arms and the blond turned to look at him. He didn't look angry- yet, just betrayed and disbelieving.

"He's bullshitting right?" Draco asked breathing heavily from his exertion, pointing to where Hopkins had left them, "You wouldn't fuck me over like that, would you?"

Blaise looked between Draco and Hermione, the latter was looking at him as though she was wondering the same thing. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "Do you really want to do this here?" Blaise asked, letting his eyes flicker over to Hermione.

Draco looked over to her before turning back to Blaise.

"If it's true, I want her to hear it," he said, simply. Blaise nodded, though his stomach was twisting with nerves at what was to come.

"Say it's not true, say Hopkins is a bullshitting wanker, and I'll make him pay for it," Draco said calmly. Blaise, however, was not fooled. He could see the wild glint in the blond's eye.

Draco already knew the answer to the question, and was merely waiting for Blaise to admit it in front of Hermione. He really was conniving sometimes, but then again, Blaise was hardly one to talk right now.

"It wasn't exactly like he said-," Blaise argued, rather weakly, but was cut off by Draco.

"So you did? I honestly didn't think you'd do something like that," Draco said angrily, stepping back and looking him up and down with distaste.

"You practically just admitted everything in front of her, you know," Blaise said, unsure why he was addressing _that_ issue when there were obviously more important things happening.

Draco let his gaze fall on Hermione, who was staring at Blaise in shock and disbelief. Blaise noticed that his friends' sharp stare softened slightly when he looked at the witch.

"I have a feeling Granger, there, knows more then she lets on," he said, still watching the witch, "I haven't exactly been subtle lately, and I haven't particularly cared to be subtle."

He strolled over to the witch with one hand in his pocket, the other reached out grasping her chin gently and turning her head so it faced him. He ran his thumb over her lips softly, his gaze only leaving her eyes when her tongue popped out of her mouth to moisten the path on her lips his thumb had just travelled.

"I think she's got a little thing for me, too," he said, quietly, looking almost mesmerised. Hermione didn't answer, but her eyes flicked to the ground, and Draco cracked a small, smug grin.

Blaise was watching the interaction with confusion. Wasn't Draco supposed to be pissed off at him? Wasn't he going to get revenge? That was Draco all over; this wasn't.

Almost as if reading his mind, Draco broke away from the witch and moved back over to Blaise and stared at the latter quite blankly. Blaise had to admit that this was more unnerving than knowing what was going on in Draco's head.

"So you paid Hopkins to go out with Granger? _Why_? Is it because you wanted to mess with me? Or is it because you really do think she's better off with someone else? Or maybe it's because you thought it was funny to mess with her?" Draco's voice was getting louder and angrier with each suggestion.

"Look, mate-," Blaise began, but his explanation was cut off as Draco's fist met with his stomach, essentially winding him. Blaise fell to the floor, gripping his stomach in pain.

"You'll always be my brother, Zabini," Draco hissed, "but right now, I really want to kick the shit out of you." He saw Draco's fist raised again, readily aiming for his face, when he heard a strangled sob from Hermione.

Though the sound was quiet, it certainly got Draco's attention, and his face softened as he dropped his hand to stare at her, almost as if seeing her for the first time. Blaise, who was still curled up in immense pain, couldn't see her, but he heard her footsteps by his head.

"Stop it," she said in a shaky voice, "stop hurting him."

Blaise could see Draco's confusion, and slight annoyance that she seemed to be taking Blaise's side.

"You heard him," Draco argued, though it was slightly weaker, "He tried to hurt you just as much as he did me."

"I know." She shot back angrily, "But I don't want him hurt. Just leave him."

Draco, surprisingly, did as she said and stepped back, though he didn't look pleased about it at all.

"Why would you do that to me, Blaise?" Hermione asked, "Was it funny or something? I thought you said you didn't treat girls badly? To me, it seems like you were trying to humiliate me."

"That's not-," he didn't get to finish explaining as he heard her heavy footfalls on the stone getting further and further away. He rolled over slightly, so he was flat on his back facing the ceiling. His stomach still throbbed in pain every time he took a breath.

"Well, look at that," Draco said in a mocking voice as he leaned over Blaise, "You sat there lecturing me about hurting her, and you turn to be the one trying to hurt her."

Blaise narrowed his eyes angrily. "You know that's not true, and you didn't have to let her hear that. I only fucking did it because I wanted to see your reaction! It was when you were being a twat and acting like she was still a filthy muggle-born! I knew better, than to believe your shit, so I tested you for myself. I was right."

Draco appraised him silently for a moment, and his face softened slightly, "And what would have happened if she'd liked him? It seems pretty clear that he took an interest in her. Didn't plan for that did you?"

Blaise didn't answer. He hadn't thought of that possibility, but he knew deep down that Hermione would never fancy Hopkins. He was too cocky, and arrogant, but then again so was Draco...

Draco shook his head, almost sympathetically. "I didn't think so. You're lucky it didn't happen, cause I might be even more pissed off. Honestly, mate, where the fuck would you be without me?" he asked, almost fondly. He grabbed Blaise's hand and pulled him up so he could lean against the stone wall.

Blaise wasn't surprised at his sudden change of mood. Draco could be quite manic; one minute he'd be beating you up, the next he'd act like it was a mere tussle between brothers. Blaise, being considered the 'younger brother', especially since he was the youngest, had come to accept that Draco, in a nutshell, was fucking nuts. While to many it would seem ridiculous and unhealthy, to them it just how things were done, and had been done since they were kids. It was all part of the pecking order, and as of yet, Draco had not slipped from his spot at the top.

"Wait here," Draco told him. Blaise snorted, where would he go in this much pain?

He heard Draco's footsteps get further away until eventually he was in silence. After a long moment, he heard footsteps on the stone and looked up expecting to see Draco again. He was surprised, however, to see Luna and Ginny, carrying an extremely inebriated Neville down the corridors, followed by McGonagall.

"Blaise!" Luna cried, relief flooding her voice, "Where have you been? Lots of people are sick; they think someone spiked the punch. It's lucky you stopped me from drinking it, don't you think?"

Immediately, Ginny and McGonagall eyed him suspiciously. Blaise inwardly cursed, knowing Luna hadn't meant to slip out such incriminating evidence. She was unknowingly honest.

"Is this true, Mr Zabini?" McGonagall asked sternly. He sighed. There was no point in lying.

"Yes," he admitted. McGonagall crossed her arms.

"Come with me," she ordered, continuing down the hall with Neville, who looked as though he were going to throw up any second.

Blaise stood and made his way to where Luna was standing waiting for him. He put an arm around her, not only for tenderness, but also because he felt as though he'd keel over any minute. Draco certainly knew how to hurt him, not only physically, either.

"Tonight was certainly eventful," Luna commented brightly, completely oblivious to the fact she'd just inadvertently got him in trouble. Blaise smirked at her optimism. She could always turn something into a positive.

"You got that right, love," he replied, thinking back to the events of just before. He wondered for a moment where Draco had disappeared to, but that thought quickly disappeared as Neville vomited loudly on the floor just ahead of them. Great. The sooner this night ended, the better.

* * *

><p>"Granger!" Hermione continued up the stairs at a fast pace, ignoring the teen who was calling her. "Oi, Granger!"<p>

What she didn't count on was his high fitness level from Quidditch, and with a shriek she found herself pinned against the banister by the body of Draco Malfoy. What made it worse is than their bodies were heaving from the climb, and their breaths were coming out in pants. Hermione could taste him in the air, and barely noticed when his eyes flicked to her mouth.

He pressed his lips against hers in a desperate kiss, the pressure so hard she thought they might bruise. Hermione pushed her small hands against his chest as hard as she could, causing him to lose his balance and fall back against the opposite banister. The wild, almost feral glint in his eye made her stomach flip, but she was far too upset to let it affect her.

"Stop doing that!" She cried, almost hysterically. She was holding in a sob that desperately wanted to escape.

When had this happened? When did Draco Malfoy go around kissing her at random intervals? When had she decided she enjoyed it? She hated it. She hated him. Except she didn't, really. And she hated that fact more than anything.

"You don't want me to do that, and you know it," he said calmly, though his breath was slightly hitched. She was taken aback for a moment at how his voice sounded without his usual egotistical and cocky edge. He sounded almost sincere. She caught herself, and scowled at him.

"You don't know what I want," she hissed. "If you did, you would know that I think you and Blaise are the worst things that ever entered my life."

She was surprised by the harshness of her words, and wondered for a second if she actually meant them.

"It's only because we're the only ones who don't let you sit comfortably in your little routine," he shot back. That might be slightly true, but she refused to think on it.

"Or maybe it's just because I hate you!"

He raised his eyebrows at her sceptically, "Do you really believe that?"

She wanted to scream at him that yes, she did believe that, but as soon as she opened her mouth the words died away. He smirked at her, which only infuriated her further.

"Piss off," she hissed, in an uncharacteristic episode of cursing, before she turned and stomped up the stairs. He followed behind.

"Why are you mad at me? I haven't done anything."

She whipped around and found herself uncomfortably close to him. Taking a step back, she glared at him. She took a deep breath, ready to cut him down.

"I'm always mad at you! You're arrogant, egotistical, and cocky, you put words in my mouth and try to tell me how I'm feeling. You sit there berating Blaise like _you_ haven't hexed me multiple times in the past. You think that just because you decide you aren't going to hate me anymore, that I have to feel the same way! You say you haven't changed, but I don't recall a playful attitude while you were practically drowning me in the prefect's bathroom, in fact, I don't recall you speaking two words to me other then 'dirty mudblood' all the years of my time here. And if you haven't changed, then frankly I think you're slightly bipolar!"

He frowned at this. But she carried on.

"You act like _I'm_ being the irrational one, because I'm not willing to get over it yet. Of course I'm not! For five years I put up with that, and now you expect that to change because you've decided you don't want it to be like that anymore? Why can't you just _hex_ me again so we can go back to normal? I _want_ to hate you, but you won't let me. I don't want to feel the way I do for _you_. I don't want to want _you_. I'd rather hate you, than hate myself for being pathetic and weak, and letting you get the better of me- again! So of course I'm _mad_ at you, you _idiot_!"

She finished feeling breathless and, and hysterical, and a little embarrassed at her display. Draco stood in front of her wide-eyed and looking taken aback. If she hadn't been so shocked herself, she might have laughed at his expression, since it was one that he rarely made. After a moment Draco's brow furrowed.

"What do you mean by 'bipolar'?" he asked, curiously, cocking his head to the side slightly.

She stared straight at him, her expression menacing. "You mean, out of everything I just said, that's all you care about? Ugh!" She groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation, "You're infuriating!"

She turned and stormed away, but much to her chagrin, he followed.

"So are you going to admit you like me yet?" he asked, smirking. She sent him a scowl over her shoulder that would have had a first year quivering.

"No."

"What about tomorrow?"

"No."

He chuckled. "We'll see about that, Granger."

She turned to hiss that she did not plan on seeing him at all tomorrow, but was stopped in her tracks as he grabbed her face and kissed her on the lips hard. _Again_. She stumbled backwards, as though burnt by the connection.

"You arse!" She cried, looking scandalised.

"Yes, yes, I think we've established that I'm an arse, and that you hate me," he said impatiently, though his eyes reflected the humour behind his comment. He turned and began strolling back down the stairs, leaving Hermione to watch his retreating form with a confused and disbelieving expression on her face.

What the bloody hell was that? Did he just have the last word and then dismiss her annoyance? How dare he! She turned and raced into Gryffindor tower. It was much too early, and everyone was still at the dance, but she didn't have the energy to go back down, especially if those Slytherin wankers were going to be there. Yes, they were wankers again, not that Draco ever stopped being one.

She crawled into her bed after changing, and lay there seething for the better part of half an hour. She couldn't believe the audacity of that arse. He had kissed her, twice, when she wasn't expecting it, he had stayed calm and collected while she had ranted and raved, he had merely brushed off her attempts to anger him, and he disregarded her words when she told him she hated him.

It was surprisingly refreshing. Annoying as anything, but refreshing none the less. She had expected him to get angry, to scowl, to insult her. She hadn't expected such a confident reaction that let all her words brush right off his shoulders. A reaction that had Hermione second guessing herself. Did he know something she didn't?

No. Of course not. How would he know something about her feelings that she didn't? She froze, staring wide eyed at her ceiling. Oh god. She had lost track of herself during her rather long rant, and somewhere within that she had admitted her feelings for him. Well, close enough to admitting them, anyway.

She scoffed at the way in which he had only focused on one sentence of what she'd said. Typical male. Though, perhaps he wouldn't even realise what had accidentally slipped out. She satisfied herself with that thought. It was the only hope she had.

Downstairs, however, she didn't realise that the boy in question had been thinking about the conversation all the way down the staircase, replaying it in his mind.

He stopped mid-step on the second floor landing, staring wide-eyed ahead of him, in something akin to shock.

"Holy shit." He muttered slowly to himself, before a shit-eating grin adorned his face.

He had realised.

**A/N:**

**That last part is the closest thing you'll ever get to a Draco-perspective from me haha at least in this story anyway.**

**This chapter was so hard to write. OMG. I swear, at one point I was so stuck I curled up in the foetal position and cried a little...ok, that never happened, but you get my point.**

**I'm not even sure what to make of this chapter. I actually took advice from one review and planned a little ahead, but once again, it's gone off in a completely different direction than I intended, and I've got no clue what I'm gonna do next aha **

**Anyway, I had a review from Dramione Lover (thanks btw :D), who informed me that perhaps I should put warnings in certain chapters if they contain violence or something, because people might be slightly shocked. I don't think I need warning for this one, but I'm sorry to any of you who I've traumatised beyond reapair by not warning you :P. I'll try to do it from now on.**

**Also, thank you to latinapr, who always messages me with extremely detailed feedback, and helps me bounce ideas back and forth. You're a gem :)**

**Anyway, I'm not sure how this will be received. I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think. Please review! :)**

**Cheers guys,**

**Leni**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13**_

_...in which Draco makes a proposition._

Blaise tried to focus on the sounds of his footsteps echoing of the stone walls of the corridor as he walked swiftly along, but was finding it incredibly difficult to block out the noise of his three friends admonishing him. It was the day after the Halloween dance, and the Silver Marauders were in shit. _Deep_ shit.

Blaise and the others had been reprimanded the night before, and despite the fact that Potter and Weasley played no part in the spiking of the punch, and in turn the sickness of Neville Longbottom and countless others, they were still being called to the Headmasters office that morning to receive their punishment.

So there Blaise was, walking the corridor toward their destination, almost like a man walking to the gallows, while listening to his friends berate him for what they saw as his fault for getting them into the horrible situation.

"I really hate you, Zabini," Draco muttered sulkily from next to him at they continued along the corridor.

"I'd also like to point out that I hate Zabini, too," Weasley chirped from his other side.

"Hear, hear," Potter agreed from next to Weasley.

Blaise scowled at them all, before turning his attention back to the floor where he was watching his black dragon hide shoes hit the stone with each step he took. Unfortunately, this didn't help to block out their complaints.

"I mean, you call yourself a Slytherin," Draco continued in a disbelieving tone, shaking his head, "yet when McGonagall asks you if you spiked the punch, you don't even _try_ to lie. Not only that, but you get _me_ in shit, too. I thought you would have owed me from the fact that I at _least_ had the decency to punch you in the stomach, last night, instead of the nose. Especially after what _you_ did."

Blaise sighed tiredly. Draco had brought up the situation with Hopkins a total of thirty-two times since last night, and frankly Blaise was sick of hearing about it. He turned to find Draco was eyeing at him with an irritated expression.

Blaise rolled his eyes at his friends moodiness. It had been fluctuating like crazy lately. Last night he'd been smiling rather goofily when Blaise and the teachers had caught up with him to question him about the punch incident.

After that, he'd been unsurprisingly pissed, though every now and then he'd look thoughtful for a moment, and cheer up considerably. That is until he would be reminded of the fact that they were most likely going to get expelled.

"You know, mate," Blaise began, barely containing his anger, "if you hadn't spiked it in the first place none of this would've happened. I'm not gonna take the blame for your shit, even if you think I should."

Draco eyed him shrewdly for a moment, "...I could always punch you in the face again." He threatened in an almost innocent tone.

They had a stare-off for a few seconds before Blaise cracked a small grin, "Just try, you wanker, I won't hesitate to punch you back." Both he and Draco chuckled lightly. What else was there to do in this situation?

"I'm all glad you guys can see the light in this situation, but we didn't even bloody well do anything and we're getting dragged into it!" Weasley cried, motioning between himself and Potter.

This only made Draco and Blaise chuckle harder.

"Serves you right though, don't you think? I recall a certain incident with Granger and a dark spell that got us all in the shit, despite the fact it was only you and Potter."

"That was an accident though, you did this on purpose." Weasley argued, though they could all tell he was resigned to his fate.

Draco shrugged. "I'm certainly not going to vouch for your innocence; if I go down, I'm taking you gits down with me."

Potter and Weasley grumbled, but stayed relatively quiet after that. The group made their way to the spot in front of a large stone gargoyle, before they all looked expectantly at Draco. As a prefect, he was the only one with the password.

"Fizzing whizbees," muttered Draco. The gargoyle shifted to the side and a spiral staircase appeared.

"What kind of a password is_ that_?" Weasley snorted, as they jumped on the ascending staircase.

"What do you expect from Dumbledore? He's a nutty old coot." Malfoy answered nonchalantly.

Blaise couldn't exactly disagree with that, as he'd always thought Dumbledore was a bit odd. Most of the Slytherins disliked him, merely because he favoured the Gryffindors. The only pay-back they got was during Potions with Snape.

As they climbed the last few steps of the spiral stairs, they found themselves in front of a large wooden door with a silver knocker. Blaise narrowed his eyes at the object, hoping it wasn't like the one at the entrance to Ravenclaw tower. He dreaded going up there because of that horrid bronze knocker.

Just as Draco raised his hand to knock, they heard a muffled voice from inside call, "Come in."

The boys exchanged curious glances, before Draco grasped the door handle and pushed the door open.

The office was filled with odd contraptions and devices, but nobody was really focused on those. Everyone's eyes were trained on the six occupants that were taking up much of the space in the office.

At his desk, his eyes twinkling as usual was Dumbledore. Next to him, looking far less pleased was Professor McGonagall. In the corner looking as though she wanted to be anywhere but there was Hermione. Blaise noticed this was where Draco's eyes first trailed to first, but Hermione was looking pointedly as her feet with her hands behind her back.

Next to her, Blaise recognised a tall dark haired boy in their year and house, Theodore Nott. He and Draco had never gotten along with the teen or his friends. He wondered why Nott was there in the first place. He hadn't even been involved last night...

Blaise didn't ponder on this thought for too long as his eyes trailed to the last two occupants of the room. Professor Snape stood in front of Dumbledore's desk, eyeing them with a blank, yet haughty, expression. Blaise didn't really expect much more, Snape was never one to let his emotions play on his face. Unlike the last occupant of the room.

Blaise and Draco seemed to notice his presence at the same time, as Draco cursed under his breath almost at the same time Blaise curse in his head.

Standing next to Snape, looking as though he wanted to whip out his wand and Crucio Draco, was Lucius Malfoy. Blaise felt himself become more nervous under the man's murderous gaze, and it wasn't even directed at him. At that moment, he truly felt sorry for his friend.

"I'm very glad to see you could make it, I assure you, we have much to discuss," Dumbledore said, standing from his seat and ushering them forward. The four boys hesitantly stepped forward, though neither of the strayed from their huddled group. Blaise could feel Weasley practically cowering behind him.

"Now, I hear you thought it would be quite amusing to spike the punch last night? Though, I feel that those who were victim of your prank do not share the sentiment."

"It was just a bit of fun..." Draco explained weakly, trailing off as he caught the death stare his father was sending him.

"I have no doubt that was your only intention; a bit of fun," Dumbledore continued, "unfortunately, you failed to think of the consequences. We're very lucky to have such a talented nurse on staff to deal with this. Now, did you get the alcohol off another student?"

"No sir, I stole it off my-my father," Draco finished weakly. Blaise noticed he was steadfastly avoiding his father's eye. Lucius' eyes were narrowed into slits.

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. Unfortunately, since you all took part in this you must all be punished."

Blaise heard Weasley speak up behind him, but his words quickly drowned out by a small whimper. Blaise assumed Draco had kicked him to keep him quiet.

"Now, while expulsion would seem like the proper punishment, especially since I've heard from reliable sources that this is not your first crime," Dumbledore eyed them over his half-moon spectacles, "I do not believe that is the correct punishment."

The boys, who were tense only moments before, relaxed slightly at this revelation. McGonagall didn't share this sentiment, however.

"Albus, you cannot seriously consider letting them stay at the school! They poisoned countless students!"

Dumbledore noted Professor McGonagall's disagreement with a smile, "I know, Minerva, but I believe it was not their intention to cause such harm. The boys are far too bright to have their education cut short over a mere prank."

McGonagall looked scandalized. "A mere prank? There was nothing remotely funny about the incident at all. I also have it on good authority that they are bullies. In fact, I've heard it from Ginevra Weasley that they have bullied not only her, but have taunted poor Hermione, there, for years! They are merely sneaky enough as not to get caught." She finished, rather breathless, looking toward the four boys with contempt.

Dumbledore appraised the situation for a moment, before turning to Hermione, who appeared to be so close to the wall she was hoping to sink through it and disappear. Blaise didn't blame her.

"Is this true, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, eyeing her intently. Hermione shrunk back even more as all the eyes in the room turned to her.

"Um, well-uh," she stuttered for a moment, her eyes moved rapidly between Dumbledore and, if Blaise was correct, Draco. At one point her gaze fell on Blaise, but she looked away swiftly.

"Obviously, they did nothing, otherwise the girl would have spoken up before now," an impatient Lucius Malfoy interrupted, "I have told you for the past hour, Headmaster; this is not the usual behaviour for Draco. His future certainly shouldn't be held in the hands of a fellow student who probably holds a grudge."

Blaise gazed at the aristocratic man and found him eyeing Hermione with an expression of disdain. He clearly knew who she was, and her blood status. Blaise knew Draco had gone home many times during his early years at school and scoffed about the 'know-it-all mudblood' who kept beating him in class. Blaise wondered for a moment if Draco regretted ever informing his father of her existence.

Dumbledore ignored Lucius' comment, and continued questioning Hermione. "Have these boys ever done anything to harm you miss, Granger? Please be honest, because it will play a role in my decision."

Hermione was silent for a moment, before looking over at the four Silver Marauders. She knew she could easily tell Dumbledore everything and get them expelled, but did she want to do that?

Previously, if she had been given the opportunity, she would have jumped at it, and took great pleasure in ruining their lives, just like they'd ruined hers over the many years. But things were far too personal now. She no longer hated them, well she no longer hated _half_ of them, and thinking about destroying their future over a small grudge was something Hermione couldn't fathom. She should say yes, she should pay them back for all they did. But she didn't.

Instead she found herself shaking her head, while still looking into the gray pools of Draco Malfoy's eyes, knowing she'd probably regret this for a long time. "No, sir, they haven't done anything to me."

She saw Draco relax visibly, and next to him, Blaise and the others did too. She could see McGonagall out of the corner of her eye, shaking her head in disappointment. Next to her, Theodore Nott was staring at her, with a raised eyebrow. She had no doubt he knew she was lying, he was probably curious as to why she was.

Hermione, feeling slightly disappointed with herself, turned her gaze back to her shoes. Had she done the right thing? She hoped she had.

Across the room, the four boys were staring at Hermione in shock. Blaise had been certain that they were screwed the moment Dumbledore asked Hermione whether they had bullied her. He had thought, considering the events of last night that she would jump at the opportunity to get them back for all they did to her over the years.

If the tables had been turned, he was certain that in a different circumstance, Draco wouldn't have shown the same kindness. He assumed that this was the difference between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"Very well," Dumbledore said, turning from Hermione back to the boys, "your punishment will be based solely on the events of last night. I believe a month's detention, and 50 house points from all of you will suffice. Unfortunately, Mr Malfoy, I must also strip you of your title as Prefect."

"What?" Draco and Lucius exclaimed at the same time. Dumbledore held his hand up for silence.

"I do not believe you hold the responsibility, nor the real desire for the position. Unfortunately, this incident on your record means you're out of the running for the position of Head Boy, also. Both yourself, and Mr. Zabini, that is."

"I was in the running for Head Boy?" Blaise asked, thoroughly surprised. He wasn't a Prefect, why would they consider making him Head Boy next year?

"Yes," Dumbledore informed him, "Mr Malfoy and yourself are ranked second and third in the year; first place, of course being Miss Granger." He finished, smiling towards a blushing Hermione.

Blaise was shocked, to say the least. He heard Draco sigh moodily, before he suddenly spoke.

"Wait...is that why he's here?" Draco accused, pointing at Theodore, who was trying hard not to smirk.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, after a very promising recommendation from Professor Snape, Mr Nott here will be filling the role as 6th year Prefect for the rest of the year."

Draco turned his scowl toward Snape, who merely raised his eyebrows at the teen.

"Are you serious?" Draco asked disbelievingly. Snape sighed tiredly, obviously wishing to end the meeting soon.

"I assure you, Draco," Snape drawled, his tone holding room for no argument, "you are lucky I agreed to keep an eye on you from now on, otherwise you may have been packing your trunk for the trip home at this very moment. Mr Nott will take your place, since you seem incapable of doing the job properly, and I will hear no arguments on the matter."

Anybody with an ounce of intelligence knew not to cross Snape; therefore Draco begrudgingly unpinned his shiny, silver Prefect badge from his robes, and shoved it roughly into the waiting hand of Theodore Nott. The latter pinned it to his robes, and even had the audacity to begin shining it with his sleeve, while smirking at the group of boys the whole time.

"Excellent." Dumbledore commented, far too brightly for the situation, "Well, now that we have that sorted, you six may leave." He motioned toward the six students, who made their way out the door and down the spiral staircase once more.

Once outside, the stone gargoyle moved back into place, and the Silver Marauders stood there silently, not sure whether to feel elated or annoyed. They chose annoyed when Theodore Nott spoke.

"No hard feelings, right Malfoy?" the teen said, rather smugly. "You should consider this a lesson. Being a Malfoy doesn't get you everything, though you still got your _daddy _here to fight your battle, didn't you?"

In what seemed like a split second, Draco had pulled out his wand and had it pointed at Nott's throat. Hermione, who had been standing off to the side, predicting that there might be a scuffle, jumped forward and grabbed Draco by the arm, while one hand grasped his hand and forced his wand to point to the ground.

"What is wrong with you?" She berated him hotly, "You barely escape expulsion, and you're out here pulling your wand on a Prefect. Are you _stupid_?"

He turned and stared at her, his expression still seething. In that moment, Hermione was reminded of the way he had looked at her so many times when he'd called her a mudblood or hexed her. She almost expected him to do that now.

But he didn't.

His face softened slightly, and he seemed to collect himself.

"Learn to respect your superiors, Malfoy," Nott spat at him, "Wait and see how much everyone loves you when I tell them you lost 200 house points for us." With that, he turned and left down the corridor.

"What a fucking wanker," Potter said, his eyes narrowed as he watched Nott leave.

Hermione sighed tiredly. "_Language_. I'm a prefect, you know."

Potter turned to her with a lopsided grin, "You wouldn't take any more points off us, Granger, you just saved our asses. It's because you've got a thing for me, isn't it?"

Hermione raised a brow at the bespectacled boy, looking him up and down with distaste. "I think I preferred it when you hexed me."

Blaise snorted at Potter's put out expression, before turning to Hermione. "Thanks, Hermione, really. Without you lying for us, no doubt we'd be pretty much screwed."

She blushed slightly at everyone's eyes on her, but before she could answer, a smooth drawl met their ears.

"Yes, yes, you all owe Miss Granger highly," Lucius spoke, approaching the group from behind, and barely containing the expression of disgust at Hermione.

When he reached the group, he opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped as his eyes were drawn downwards. Blaise followed his gaze, and noticed with a flash of panic, that he was eyeing Hermione's hand, which was still covering Draco's.

Neither of them had even realised, or bothered to move, but at Lucius' stern gaze, they both looked at their joined limbs and jumped apart as if burnt at the touch. Hermione stuttered for a moment, her face turning a bright red, before giving up and all but running down the corridor and around the corner out of sight.

Weasley and Potter, who had never hid their dislike for Lucius, or his for them, left swiftly after Hermione, not wanting to be in the man's presence any longer.

"What was that, Draco?" Lucius asked, in a snobbish drawl, looking down his nose at his son. It was a feat in itself, considering they were the same height.

"What was what?" Draco asked casually, feigning innocence.

Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly. "Do not play dumb with me, son. What was that between you and the mudblood? Are you friendly with her? They are no better than _muggle filth_, how many time have I told you that?"

Blaise watched the scene between father and son awkwardly, wishing he'd left with Potter and Weasley many minutes ago.

"Friendly with Granger?" Draco scoffed, "I'm sure she wishes, that's probably why she keeps finding excuses to touch me all the time. _Filthy mudblood_." He spat, contorting his face into one of disgust and disdain. Blaise was quite impressed at Draco's acting skills.

Lucius eyed him intently for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I do not, however, appreciate that the mudblood is likely the only reason I am not escorting you home right now." His tone became angrier and his face reddened slightly as he spoke.

"You are not here for fun, Draco; you are here to get an education. You will behave from now on. Not only have you ruined your prospects of becoming head boy, you have tarnished my reputation beyond repair. Consider yourself lucky it isn't the Christmas holidays, otherwise you would be receiving a personal punishment from me." He tapped his cane against his hand, Blaise wasn't sure if he was talking about the cane itself, or the wand that he kept hidden inside.

Draco nodded, looking at the cane with a flicker of fear in his eye. "It won't happen again, sir." He insisted quietly.

Lucius lowered the cane to its original position by his side. "It won't," he agreed, before stepping around his son, and pausing.

"Be sure to wash your hand," he added, nodding to the hand that Hermione had touched, before he continued walking down the corridor. Both boys let out a relieved breath as his aristocratic figure disappeared around the corner.

"Well, fuck, that was close," Blaise muttered, referring not only to their possible expulsion, but the incident between Draco and Hermione hands.

Draco nodded numbly, still staring at the spot his father had last been. "I'm gonna go find Granger." He said suddenly.

Blaise furrowed his brow at Draco's unexpected idea. "Ok... do you want me to come?"

"No. No," Draco shook his head, still looking deep in thought, "You go see Loony, or something."

Blaise raised his eyebrow, as Draco left swiftly down the corridor. He really wished his friend would stop calling Luna that, though it was far too much to expect from Draco. After a moment, Blaise shrugged, and decided he _would_ go see Luna.

* * *

><p>Hermione pulled another book off the shelf and flicked through it, before sighing and slipping it back on the shelf. She was in the library looking for some books on herbology to take to Neville up in the hospital wing since he was there for the rest of the day. Madam Pomfrey had attempted to give him a few potions for his nausea and headache, but he was unable to keep them down. Therefore, he was having to recover the muggle way.<p>

Hermione had been there that morning, until Professor McGonagall had called for her to come to the meeting in Dumbledore's office. She'd promised Neville she'd be back soon, and had decided to bring him back some books to read, especially since he was disappointed that he couldn't spend the day in the greenhouses.

She sighed again as she pulled another book off the shelf. She wasn't really paying attention to the contents as she flicked through it; she was far too busy thinking about the events of last night and this morning.

Last night she'd discovered Blaise was not as decent as she thought. He had paid someone to date her; why? She didn't know. He'd tried to be kind to her this morning, thanking her for helping them out, but she still wasn't sure why he'd do that in the first place.

Then there was Draco. Had he said he liked her? She wasn't actually sure...he made it seem as though he did. That was the thing. She felt as though she'd given away some big secret, but got nothing in return. She'd been extremely humiliated when she'd seen him in Dumbledore's office earlier.

She wasn't sure if he'd picked up on her little slip of the tongue last night, but she certainly hoped he hadn't. What would he do with that sort of information? If he didn't like her, which she wasn't sure he did, would he use it against her? Had he told Blaise, and had Blaise confirmed it?

There were so many thoughts going through Hermione's head, that for the first time in her life, she wished she could switch her brain off and just not care. That was something impossible for Hermione, however; once she had an idea in her head it would permeate until she did something about it. But this was one idea she didn't want to do anything about.

She cursed under her breath and decided to just grab a random stack of books from the Herbology section; Neville was sure to like at least one of them. She went to leave, carrying the tomes in her arms but jumped and dropped them all when she was faced with the statuesque form of Draco Malfoy leaning casually at the end of the aisle she'd just been looking through.

She covered her heart with her hand to steady her heartbeat and glared at him. Normally she would expect him to smirk in return, but he merely watched her with a blank expression as she picked up the books from around her feet.

"That's the second time I've heard you swear in the past two days, Granger," he said plainly, "to be honest, I'm quite shocked."

She stood back up, adjusting the books into a neat stack in her arms, while watching him with furrowed brows. He seemed...deflated. Yes, that was the word to describe it. He just didn't have his normal smug attitude. Not that she missed it. As far as she was concerned he needed a healthy dose of humble pie, however, seeing him like _this_ was quite new.

"How long have you been standing there?" She asked self consciously after a moment.

He moved toward her and grabbed half the stack of books from her. "Not long," he said off-handedly, inspecting the cover of the top book, "Herbology? Since when do you like herbology?"

"I like herbology," she insisted defensively, "why would you know what I like, anyway? You hardly know me."

He eyed her for a moment. "I know it's the one class I'm beating you in. Therefore I assume it's because you don't like it."

She narrowed her eyes. "And how would you know that?"

"My father's a Governor of the school, Granger," he said, like it was obvious, "He has access to student records."

Her eyes widened at this. Was he allowed to tell Draco stuff like that? "He shouldn't tell you that! That's a breach of my privacy!"

He sighed tiredly, and adjusted the books so they were held securely under his arm. "Calm down. He doesn't do it to breach your privacy; he does it so he can see if I've beaten you yet. It usually results in a lecture about how pathetic I am."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but her words disappeared as she took in what he'd said. She suddenly felt guilty for being the cause of his father's disappointment. "Oh...Um, I'm sorry...You _are_ second in the year though, he should still be proud."

Draco scoffed and turned away. "Second behind a Muggleborn is as good as last to him. Where are you taking these books anyway? Going to try and beat me in Herbology too, huh?"

She bit her lip, wondering if he was bitter, but when he turned back to her she saw him smirking, she relaxed slightly. She couldn't help but notice, though, that his smirk seemed rather forced.

"I was taking them up to Neville, he's sick thanks to you," she said stiffly, remembering that she was supposed to be mad at him.

"At least I had the decency to stop _you_ from drinking it," he said simply. She scoffed.

"No you didn't, you just happened to spill it all-," she stopped mid sentence at his raised eyebrows, "Oh."

"Exactly."

Hermione was silent for a moment as she took this information in, and compiled it messily into her every growing stack of thoughts that shouldn't belong there. "Are you annoyed about losing your prefects badge?" She asked hesitantly after a moment.

While she didn't play a role in that decision, she couldn't help but feel a little bad about the whole thing, especially since Theodore Nott seemed to rub it in his face.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging, "I'm happy that I won't have to patrol anymore, but it's going to make it difficult for us to find a quiet place to snog in the future." He said, with a serious expression on his face.

Hermione, who had been listening intently and nodding, stopped abruptly, eyes wide and mouth gaping like a gold fish. "Excuse me?" She hissed after a moment, "I would never snog you!"

She stepped around him and attempted to find her way out of the maze of shelves in her flustered state, unsuccessfully.

"I do recall a few snogs last night, actually." He said, looking as though he were remembering a particularly pleasant memory. Hermione scowled.

"Well if you weren't so delusional, you would see that it was _you_ kissing _me, _not the other way around." She crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air haughtily. So much for his sullen mood when he first arrived, he was officially back to his old self.

Draco chuckled and took a step closer. "That's funny, because I do recall an interesting little confession you made last night, without even realising it."

Hermione's eyes widened and her arms fell slack by her side. Draco grinned at her horrified expression.

"Yep," he whispered, leaning toward her, "I heard. No point in denying it now, Granger."

She stood silently for a moment, panicking slightly, and unsure of what to say. He knew. He knew the one thing she didn't want him to know, and now he was rubbing it in her face. She narrowed her eyes menacingly.

"So? You like me too...Blaise told me." She lied, thinking of the first thing that came to her head. However, if he really _did_ like her like she suspected, she was certain he would have told Blaise.

He looked surprised for a moment, before furrowing his brow. "Did he, now? 'S'pose there's no point in denying it then."

"See, you- wait, what?" She asked, unsure if she heard correctly. He sighed tiredly.

"Yes Granger, you are correct," he repeated, more slowly. Normally she would have scowled at him for his patronising tone, but she was far too surprised to do so.

"You just...admitted...but you...I...I really wasn't expecting that," she finished weakly, staring wide eyed at him. He sighed again, looking as though he didn't really want to discuss the topic.

"It's fun messing with you, Granger, but I want to be able to snog you without you hexing me or slapping me. I have a reputation to uphold, and I don't think walking around with a red hand print on my face will help that."

It took Hermione a moment to grasp what he was saying, but when she did she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "I still don't like you."

Honestly, who does he think he is? Did he think admitting he might not hate her was going to make her fall to her knees and beg for the time of day? He was still and ass, and despite the feelings that Hermione wished she didn't have, it didn't change that fact.

Draco looked at her incredulously for a moment. "But you just said-!"

"I didn't say anything, you assumed."

He narrowed his eyes. "You admitted it last night, don't try to take it back now, Granger."

"I may have..._inadvertently_ admitted it, but that doesn't change the fact that you're an ass."

Once again the incredulous expression returned. "If I'm such an ass, why do you like me in the first place?"

Hermione shrugged, forcing her expression to one of distaste. "I'm not really sure..."

She took pleasure in the way he sputtered indignantly for a moment; it was something she'd never get used to him doing. Once he stopped however, she was slightly unnerved by his intense gaze and the fact that he was biting his lip slightly, looking as though he were weighing up his options.

Before Hermione knew what was happening, he growled, a sound that was deep in his throat, and in a split second she was pushed against the shelf with his lips ferociously stealing kisses from her own.

In the shock of it all it took Hermione a few seconds to react, but once she recovered she grasped the copy of _The Herbologists Guide to Fungus _in her hand and began beating Draco with it until he was on the ground.

"Ouch! Granger you-OW! Stop-Not the face! Not _there_ either! Bloody hell-Stop it!"

Hermione relented her beating, as Draco stared up at her from his place on the stone floor, looking far from pleased. She smirked as he stood and brushed the dust of his robes, his breathing ragged not only from being attacked, but also from their kiss just moments before.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you!" he all but yelled, "I was just trying to kiss you! You didn't have to _beat me up_!"

Hermione sniffed haughtily, while checking the book in her hand for damage, "I felt it was necessary. You won't stop doing it, otherwise."

He crossed his arms defensively, "You don't seem to complain any other time?"

She sighed. That wasn't exactly true. "But I don't give my permission either."

He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, shaking his head, before looking back at her. "Fine. Can I kiss you?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment, and he watched on intently. "No," she said eventually.

He sighed and narrowed his eyes, "Why not?"

She rolled her eyes at how repetitive the conversation was. "I've already told you, just because I..._like you_," she gritted out, "doesn't mean I _want_ to, and it doesn't mean I'm going to jump at the chance to snog you. You're still an ass, and you annoy me. Personally, I think you're a little too immature."

He looked extremely offended at her words. "You know, Granger, if you want someone who is bookish and responsible, you should have gone for Zabini."

"I don't like Blaise like that."

"Exactly. You need someone who isn't like you...I'm not like you."

"What do you even want from me? I'm a mudblood remember? You can't even be seen in public with me." She spat bitterly.

He moved forward so his chest was a mere inch away from her face. She could smell his scent; it was woodsy and spicy. She breathed it in, letting the aroma wash over her it calming ripples.

"We wouldn't have to tell anyone," he suggested, shoving his hands in his pockets, while looking down at her.

Hermione snorted, her bubble of calm had burst, and she suddenly felt angry. "I don't want to be your dirty secret, Malfoy. I can do better than that. These stupid feelings I have for you will be gone soon, and I'll be more than happy when they do." She pushed him away and stepped around him to pick up the scattered books from the floor, leaving him staring after her once again.

She exited the library swiftly, and headed towards the door of the hospital wing at the other end of the corridor. It was only as she arrived outside the large doors that she realised that she had tears running down her face. She angrily wiped them away, scolding herself for her stupidity.

Why was she even upset? What was she expecting from Malfoy? She hated to admit it, but a part of her had been over the moon at his confession of his feelings for her. She hated to think that she was that pathetic, but when he had suggested them snogging a lot more, she'd felt a twinge of excitement.

It had all crashed down, however, when she was once again reminded that no matter what he thought of her, it was always going to be a secret. She was a mudblood, and he was supposed to see her as a piece of filth on his shoe. Hermione tried to convince herself that it didn't matter, that she wouldn't care what he wanted, but in reality, the fact that he saw her as harmful to his reputation was hurtful. She only wondered whether people would ever start seeing her as a person, and not a witch of inadequate blood.

Once she had successfully wiped her tears away, and told herself for what seemed like the fiftieth time, that she didn't care what Malfoy thought, she pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the Hospital Wing.

* * *

><p>Blaise picked up another blade of grass and began shredding it into pieces while he watched Luna skip stones a few feet away along the shore of the lake. He had spent the morning leaning against the trunk of a tree, thinking back to the events of earlier that morning.<p>

He had been certain they were going to get expelled when they'd been called to Dumbledore's office, since they had never been called there before. He was surprised that they'd been let off so easily, despite the fact that Draco had lost his prefect badge. He wondered briefly whether his friend was that cut up about it, since he never really took his duties that seriously in the first place.

"I got it to skip three times then!" Luna exclaimed excitedly from the rocky bank of the lake. Blaise smiled at her enthusiasm.

"You still can't beat my record of five," he called back. She turned to him with a disbelieving look on her face.

"I don't believe you," she said cheekily, picking up another stone. "Not even the most talented rock skipper could get that many."

He stood, brushed his pants off, and made his way over to where Luna was standing on the bank. "I suppose I'll have to prove it to you then." He said with a smirk.

He picked up a flat stone, brought his arm back, and flicked his wrist. The stone went flying out of his hand and skimmed the water with a small splash, before skipping several more time. He smiled triumphantly, and turned to Luna who was looking at him with awe.

"I suppose I should never doubt you again," she said after a moment. He put an arm around her shoulder.

"That would be the smart thing to do, and here I thought you were a Ravenclaw for a reason," he teased playfully.

She went to push him, but he grabbed her around the waist and instead placed a big kiss right on her lips.

"Merlin, please stop before I throw up."

They broke apart to find Draco leaning casually against the tree, eyeing them both with a disgusted expression. Blaise sighed before turning to Luna, who was looking more amused than anything; he gave her a look that said 'I'll deal with him.'

Luna nodded and went back to skipping stones, while Blaise traipsed back over to his previous spot under the tree.

"If you've just come here to pull faces every time I kiss Luna, then you best go back to wooing Hermione, because I plan to do it a lot more."

Draco sighed, "I can't go back to 'wooing Hermione' because you completely ruined everything."

Blaise crossed his arms defensively. "And how, exactly, did I do that?"

Draco slid down the tree trunk and sat at the base of the tree, Blaise followed suit. "You went and told her that I've got a thing for her. I mean sure, I've been hinting at it, but I didn't want to straight out _tell her_. Then I tried to snog her and she tells me, get this, that I'm an ass!" By the end of his rant, Draco was practically fuming.

Blaise resisted the urge to laugh, but unfortunately he was unsuccessful. Draco glared at him. "This is all your fault, you git!"

Blaise shook his head, a grin still planted on his face. "I hate to break it to you, mate, but I think Hermione pulled one over you."

Draco's menacing gaze turned to one of confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't tell her anything. She must have been tricking you."

Draco looked away for a moment, his expression one of deep thought. After a moment he muttered, "That sneaky little witch."

Blaise chuckled. He found it amusing that Hermione was the one person who could trick his friend. Perhaps that was why he liked her so much. She was the smartest witch in the school, and he did once say he liked intelligence, though Blaise had often wondered idly whether it was because he was lacking common sense. It often seemed like it.

"Suppose she's got the upper hand now," Blaise commented distractedly. He was far too busy watching Luna picking through stones at the edge of the shore.

"Not exactly," Draco said, his tone conspiring, "Last night she let slip that she has feelings for me."

"Well, there you go. Now something might happen."

Draco shook his head. "Did you miss everything I just said? I offered for us to make an arrangement, and she beat me up with a book."

Blaise raised his eyebrow sceptically. "What do you mean by arrangement?"

Draco hesitated for a moment, before sighing. "What do you think?" he said, plainly.

Blaise shook his head incredulously. "You're an idiot. Do you honestly think any girl is going to agree to that sort of thing? Pansy might, but even she'd be a little put out that you're ashamed of her."

"It's not that I'm ashamed of her...It just, well, it'd be different if she wasn't a Muggleborn."

Blaise wondered for a moment when Draco had started referring to her as a Muggleborn and not a mudblood; at least it was a slight progress.

"That's not going to change, mate, she's a Muggleborn. End of story. If it bothers you that much-,"

"It's not that it bothers me," Draco interrupted, "I mean, it only ever bothered me because she should be beneath me, I should be better than her. My father's constantly saying that Muggleborns are just filth, and that they're beneath us purebloods." He ran his hands through his hair, looking stricken.

"I always thought that, I did. I always treated her like crap, because even though she managed to be better than me at bloody everything, at least I didn't have dirty blood. Obviously that changed. I hated myself for wanting her. Why would I want someone who was so inferior to me? It should go against everything my father ever told me. The only explanation I've been able to come up with is that I'm either crazy, or my father was wrong."

Blaise raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Well you _are_ crazy," he said, earning a sideways scowl from Draco, "but I think on this one you're father's wrong."

Draco nodded, though he didn't look any more relieved. "I figured as much. Doesn't change much though, does it?"

"Guess not. You either have to give your father the proverbial middle finger, and do what you want-," Blaise began.

"And get the absolute shit kicked out of me for it, probably," Draco added, miserably.

"-or you just forget about Hermione, and find a girl your father approves of." Blaise finished simply.

Draco groaned in frustration. "It's not that simple. It's like she was put on earth just to torture me. She's physically and intellectually perfect, there's just her blood status."

Blaise pulled his eyes away from Luna, and turned to look at Draco. He looked as though he were having a small battle with himself, and in a way, he was.

"Either way, her blood status isn't an issue if she hates you. Pureblood or not, if she wants nothing to do with you than you've got no hope anyway. The only option you've really got is to give her some time and hope she comes around."

"And what if she doesn't?" Draco questioned. Blaise shrugged.

"Then you either go against you're father or you forget about her. Hermione's a stubborn witch, mate, if you tell her to do something, she's not going to. You've gotta let her figure it out for herself. Right now she still hates herself for liking you, so she probably hates you just because she thinks it's your fault."

"Bloody hell," Draco said, gripping his head as though it might explode, "of all the witches, it has to be the most difficult."

Blaise rolled his eyes, and went back to watching Luna. "Just give her space- that means no cornering her in the library and snogging her; in fact, I think the least amount of contact possible would be good. Just try not to annoy her too much, and maybe then she'll come around. If she doesn't, then so be it."

Draco sighed and let his head lull back against the tree trunk. "I don't know if I can do that. I'll probably go insane before then."

"You'll survive."

Draco picked his head up to glare at Blaise; the latter merely smiled sympathetically and gave a small shrug. Blaise wasn't certain whether his advice would work, but he knew it was really the only option. He had kept his knowledge about Hermione's feelings a secret because he knew how Draco would react.

He knew his friend would try to push Hermione into a decision, and Blaise knew she wasn't ready to accept that she even had feelings for Draco yet. Hermione was certainly stubborn, and considering their past together, if she let herself move on from that, it would definitely take some time.

Blaise only hoped Draco would be able to survive for as long as it took for Hermione to come around.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall for dinner. She had spent her whole day in the Hospital wing with Neville, only getting shooed out a few times by Madam Pomfrey. Neville was feeling much better, but the nurse insisted on keeping him there for dinner. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion she just enjoyed having someone to fuss over.<p>

As she made her way down to the entrance hall, she groaned inwardly when she saw Draco and Blaise standing only a few feet away, the latter had his arm around Luna. She thought for a moment about simply leaving the way she came just so she didn't have to pass by them, but a loud grumble from her stomach made her realise that wasn't a popular idea with her appetite.

She took a deep breath and began to walk purposefully toward the Great hall doors, hoping that she might just slip past unnoticed.

"Hermione!" She heard a dreamy voice call out to her. She cursed to herself, and tried to plant a smile on her face as she turned to find Luna beckoning her over. Blaise and Draco hadn't even looked at her, and were merely whispering to each other in hushed tones.

She hesitantly made her way over to the group, and stood awkwardly next to Luna, who happened to be the only one acknowledging her presence.

"Hi, Luna," she greeted as cheerily as possible.

"How's Neville feeling?" The Ravenclaw asked.

Hermione shrugged. "He's perfectly fine, but Madam Pomfrey's keeping him there til after dinner."

Luna frowned. "Poor Neville, I remember I once had to spend the night in the Hospital wing-," she stopped mid sentence as Blaise leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and smiled, before turning back to Hermione.

She continued talking, but Hermione was no longer listening. Her attention was focused on the two Slytherin boys who were now retreating into the Great hall, without a backwards glance. She didn't know why, but their complete ignorance of her bothered her immensely.

She had expected a smug comment from Draco, or at least a 'hello' from Blaise, but none had come. They hadn't even looked at her once; they hadn't even acknowledged her existence. She wondered idly whether they had finally taken her serious and were going to leave her alone from then on. She wasn't sure if that was really what she wanted...

However, she still wasn't sure of exactly what she did want.

"Hermione? Hermione!" She was pulled from her thoughts by Luna's dreamy voice. She blinked a few times, before focusing on the blondes face.

"Sorry, Luna, what were you saying?" She asked, though she wasn't that interested. The girl smiled knowingly at her.

"If you like him, Hermione, then why not just say yes to him?"

Hermione was surprised for a moment that Luna would know about Draco's proposition, before remembering that she and Blaise probably shared everything with her, and Draco with him.

Hermione furrowed her brow and shook her head. "What's the point? He thinks I'm beneath him." She was quite surprised at how honest she was being, considering she wished to sweep her feelings for Draco under the rug and pretend they weren't there.

Luna smiled another knowing smile that made Hermione feel as though she was missing some obvious fact that would change everything.

"He doesn't think that," Luna assured her, "and you can trust me on that, because I'm not his biggest fan, but I think he's trying to make the best of a bad situation."

Hermione snorted. "I'm not going to agree to anything, because I refuse to be his secret."

Luna eyed her for a moment before nodding, "Ok. But love-,"

"We're not in love," Hermione interrupted quickly.

"-isn't about needing to show everyone else how you feel or announcing it in front of a room full of people, it only matters that you both know how the other feels."

Hermione watched as Luna left with a smile, heading into the Great hall. After a moment, Hermione shook herself off and followed suit, all the while Luna words were echoing in her head. He had admitted his feelings, and she had admitted hers, according to Luna, that's all that mattered.

But Hermione couldn't accept that. She couldn't swallow her pride and let him win. She and Draco had a negative history together and that fact was always holding her back. So what if they were ignoring her for a while? They'd get over it eventually. Tomorrow, Draco would probably be back to annoying her in the library, and Blaise would probably apologise soon and they'd be back to studying with each other in no time.

She comforted herself with that thought, and turned her attention to her dinner. Little did Hermione know, things wouldn't go back to normal for a long time.

**A/N:**

**This chapter was a pain to write. I really struggled with it, which is why it took so long to get up. It's also not as long as usual, but this was sort of a wrap-up chapter. The next chapter I write, I'm planning to fast forward to Christmas holidays, because I feel as though I'd be writing pointless chapters if I didn't, since I have nothing really planned for them til after Christmas. I figured it'd also move the plot along a bit quicker if we could just fill in a bit of the blanks without having to write every single scene.  
><strong>

**Anyways, the next chapter might take a bit longer to upload too. I have a lot of uni work to do, and a few assignments, even though I'd much prefer to write this. Ah well. **

**In other news, I got onto Pottermore and got sorted into Slytherin. I know it has nothing to do with this, but I was so excited since I always thought I'd be sorted there ever since I first read/saw Harry Potter.  
><strong>

**Anyway, let me know what you thought of this chapter, and perhaps where you'd like to see this story go. I've had a couple of people request things they'd like to see happen, and I've tried to fit them into some chapters so far. If you have any situations you'd like to see, let me know, and I'll attemot to fit them in if they go with the story line. Oh and if you're on Pottermore, let me know what house you were sorted in if you leave a review, I'd love to know. :)**

**Once again, I'm sorry for the boringness of this chapter, but not all chapters can be like an episode of The OC :P**

**Thanks so much for reading, and for favouriting and all that jazz, I appreciate it.**

**Cheers guys, **

**Leni**


	14. Chapter 14

**_Chapter 14_**

_...in which Draco gets a taste of reality._

A small puff of white floated down through the sky and landed gracefully on Hermione's cheek, melting instantly from the warmth. She lifted her hand and wiped away the small wetness that the snow flake had left on her face, before grasping onto the handle of her trunk and attempting to roll it towards her car.

Her father, seeing the difficulty she was having steering the trunk on the ice-slicked ground, took the handle from her and began pulling it along himself. Her mother put an arm around her and rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to provide some warmth, but despite their efforts to make her feel at home, Hermione still felt a small pang of sadness deep inside that could not be eased by any loving actions from her parents.

As they made it to their car in the car park of Kings Cross station, Hermione and her parents ducked inside immediately and turned the heat up in an attempt warm their almost frozen bodies. As her father started the car, Hermione let her head lull back against the back of her seat and stared out the frosted window, not really seeing anything. Even if she had been looking, it would have been difficult through the persistent snow fall, but even so, her mind was elsewhere.

Two months. It had been nearly two months since she had last spoken to Draco or Blaise. Hermione couldn't understand it. Perhaps she had pushed them too far; perhaps they had given up trying to be in her life. Perhaps Draco had given up trying to get her to care. He had hounded her for weeks, trying to get her to make some sort of confession of her feelings, and eventually he had won.

It was at that point Hermione had realised that she had no idea what she wanted from Draco Malfoy. He had made her an offer, and she had denied it. Not because she didn't care for him, but because she refused to do that to herself. He had assumed she would jump at the chance to be with him in secret, as though she had no dignity, or no pride.

The problem was she had far too much of both, and even though she found herself attracted to the stupid Slytherin, much to her chagrin, she couldn't bring herself to swallow her pride and agree to his offer. He was such an arrogant ass. Sauntering around like he owned the place, snogging her when she least expected it, making offers of secret relationships as though she'd jump at the opportunity.

Hermione huffed silently, feeling herself grow more annoyed as she thought of the git who had somehow captured her heart. Who did he think she was? Some sort of Pansy Parkinson? Hermione openly scowled at the thought.

"Are you alright, dear?" Hermione mother asked gently from the front seat, obviously noticing the fierce expression on Hermione's face. The girl in question jumped slightly at the interruption in her train of thoughts, before assuring her mother she was perfectly fine, and that she was just a little travel sick.

Both her parents were concerned for her, and began assuring her they would be home soon. Hermione smiled as she thought about how much she'd missed them. She didn't know what she would do without them. Unfortunately, this train of thought brought her back to Draco.

He didn't seem to have a healthy relationship with his parents, or at least his father. In that sense she felt a little bad for her harsh thoughts towards him. What would she be like if her parents were horrible to her? She hated to admit it, but she knew she'd probably be just as defensive as he was.

Then again, was he really that bad? He was arrogant and pushy, and sure, he often got on her nerves. Yes, he was rather moody, and she often worried he would hex her again. And ok, he had a problem with pushing her up against library bookshelves and snogging her senseless, though she wasn't sure whether that last point was a negative...

Hermione supposed you could call Draco passionate. That was a positive way of looking at it. He obviously knows what he wants, and he goes for it. Some would call him determined; others would call him an idiotic pest. Hermione was undecided about what she would call him.

Then again, it didn't matter, did it? He had given up on her because of the endless times she'd told him she hated him, and never wanted anything to do with him. She hadn't really expected him to take her seriously when she'd beat him with a book and told him to take his offer of a secret relationship elsewhere.

She thought he'd be back to hassling her about it the next day. But he hadn't. He had taken her words seriously for probably the first time ever, and he now thought she didn't care.

The problem was she did care. _She did_.

But he didn't know that. He didn't know that every day for the past two months, she had watched him in class, secretly wondering if he would look at her. He had occasionally, but whenever she caught his eye, he looked away just as quickly.

Blaise had spoken to her occasionally, though it wasn't like they used to speak, so she didn't count it. When they were paired up in potions, he would tell her what ingredients needed to be added next, or when to turn the heat down, but that was it. Apart from a few almost-guilty smiles from Blaise as they passed in the corridors, she had barely interacted with either of them.

She hated it.

She still had Neville as a friend, of course, and Ginny, and even Luna, but for some reason she missed those two as well. She missed Draco much more than she cared to admit. She had always assumed she'd be happy if he left her alone, that she'd go back to merely disliking him, and that things would be easy.

But much to her surprise, she was wrong. For an absence she thought would make her feelings for him wane, it only made them stronger. She had spent most of her time thinking about why he was avoiding her that she didn't realise that thinking about him more was not helping her at all. Now she was in much deeper than before, and she was certain there was no way to get out without drowning.

She had concluded that there were two reasons he was avoiding her.

The first was that her rejection of his offer had made him give up on her (she assumed this was the case); the second was that maybe his feelings had just changed (a part deep down inside hoped this wasn't the case). They were rather self-loathing explanations, but she couldn't think of any others. It didn't matter anyway, because it didn't change the fact that he was still ignoring her.

She had wanted to ask Blaise what was going on, especially since neither boy had offered her an explanation, but she had resisted. She didn't want them to think it was getting to her, so she just pretended not to care. Perhaps she was doing a better job at pretending than she thought, because neither of them had bothered to explain themselves.

She sat up straighter in her seat and adjusted the seat-belt which was constricting her chest, as she remembered another interesting incident that had happened just that day.

At the train station, when she'd met her parents on the platform, she had turned to wave to Neville as he left with his grandmother. At the other end of the platform, through the thick crowd, she had made eye contact with the blond Slytherin. He was merely watching her as he stood waiting for Blaise to collect his trunk from the trolley.

Draco had looked like crap. Well, as crap as he could possibly look which was probably better than she looked half the time, but still, he had looked worn out. Maybe something had happened that had changed him? Maybe none of this had anything to do with her?

"Hermione?" She looked up to find her mother looking at her with concern from the front passenger seat, "We're home, dear."

Hermione looked out the icy window and found, much to her surprise, that they were in fact in the driveway of her two-story brick home in the middle of her suburban street. She had spent the whole trip lost in thoughts about a certain boy that it felt as though it had only taken minutes.

She blinked a few times, clearing her head, before she opened the door of the car, and raced toward the front door that her mother was now holding open for her.

"You go upstairs to change into some comfortable clothes, and put your things away, while I go make some hot chocolate," her mother said, as she removed her thick coat and hung it by the front door.

She pulled Hermione into a warm hug, one that the teen didn't realise until just then that she had missed.

"It's great to have you back," Mrs Granger said fondly, "the house is always empty without you."

Hermione smiled sadly, "It's good to be back, mum."

Hermione grabbed the handle of her trunk and began hauling it up the stairs to her bedroom. The room was just how she'd left it three months ago, though it had accumulated some dust here and there. She unpacked her trunk and slipped into her pyjamas, before sitting at the end of her bed.

She felt ill. Like a weight was sitting in the bottom of her stomach. However, she was certain it had nothing to do with travel, and all to do with a particular blond who had somehow wormed his way into her life.

She sighed, before standing and making her way back down stairs to where her mother had a steaming cup of hot chocolate waiting and her father was building a fire in their fire place. She smiled, trying to enjoy the now rare moments she got to spend with her parents. She was determined not to let Draco Malfoy get her down; not again.

* * *

><p>Blaise sat in the dim light of the large old fashioned drawing room of Malfoy Manor, bored out of his mind.<p>

The room was more like a large hall, with 18th century furniture scattered around the place, though it was still rather empty. This was the room they always spent their time in when they were at the manor, mainly because neither of Draco's parents ever went in there, but also because it was large enough to hold a small game of Quidditch in, which they often secretly did on rainy days.

Blaise and Draco had arrived by portkey just moments before, and after putting their trunks away in their rooms, they found themselves sitting on two leather couches in front of the roaring fire.

Blaise had been trying to coax Draco into doing something for the past ten minutes, but the teen wouldn't budge from his place on the chair. In fact, he was barely speaking at all.

"We could always go flying?" Blaise suggested, as he idly flicked through a Quidditch magazine.

"Nah," Draco answered from his place across the room. Blaise looked up to find him spread full-length on the green leather couch. In the fire light of the dark room, the dark rings under Draco's eyes stood out even more against his pale skin.

Blaise sighed. He would like to think that the unhealthy look about Draco was not caused by his lack of contact with Hermione, but it was hard to deny the evidence.

In all honesty, Blaise had hoped for his friend's sake that he would merely get over Hermione. He had thought that two months of no contact would help Draco to move on, especially since Hermione seemed to be doing perfectly fine without him- well, both of them for that matter. At least he took the fact that she hadn't tried to ask him about Draco at all as 'doing fine'.

Blaise had honestly thought that Hermione would approach them and demand to know what was going on. It seemed like something the head strong, stubborn witch would do.

He thought she would insist that they speak to her; he thought that she would call them out for ignoring her. But she hadn't, and it didn't look like she would anytime soon. Blaise had a feeling Draco knew that, hence the reason for his worn out appearance.

He knew that Draco had realised that most of what happened between he and Hermione was very one-sided. Given her way, she probably wouldn't have looked twice at him. She probably didn't care what they did as long as they left her alone.

Blaise didn't envy Draco in that regard. He could only imagine how horrible it must feel, but wallowing in self-pity was getting him nowhere. He needed to take his mind off it.

"Wanna play exploding snap?" Blaise asked, though he knew it was pointless trying to suggest anything for them to do. Draco didn't look like he was in the mood for anything.

"Nah," Draco answered again, staring into the flames of the fire.

Blaise sighed in frustration, while throwing the magazine down on the coffee table. "Snap out of it before I punch you in the face."

Draco barely turned his head to look at Blaise. "What're you on about?" he asked in a blank tone.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "You know exactly what I'm on about. You've been miserable lately. You've barely eaten, or slept. You hardly talk anymore. She's just a girl, mate-,"

"She's not just a fucking girl," Draco interrupted in an angry hiss. "It's easy for you to sit here and lecture me on this; you've got the girl you want! I've done everything I can, and she still hates me too much to give me a chance. So don't fucking lecture me, I'm not in the mood."

Blaise stood and moved to stand in front of the fire, forcing Draco to meet his eye. "You haven't done everything. You still treat her like a muggle-born-,"

"She _is_ a muggle-born," Draco interrupted, stating the fact as though Blaise had forgotten a vital fact. Blaise resisted the urge to pull his hair out; Draco could be infuriating sometimes.

"I know that, and you say that it doesn't make a difference now, but you don't treat her that way. If it didn't matter, you wouldn't need to hide that you want her."

Draco scoffed, before looking away. Blaise saw a flicker of anger in his eyes, and couldn't help but be relieved. It was the liveliest Draco had been in weeks.

"You really don't get it, do you? It's easy for you, your mother couldn't give a shit what you do or who you spend your time with. And I _envy_ you for that. Do you understand? With everything I ever do my parents will be sticking their fucking noses into it, and controlling me. The fact of the matter is: Hermione's a Muggleborn, I fancy her. My parents hate anyone who isn't pure-blooded. If I go anywhere near her, I may as well sign my death certificate."

Draco's breathing was ragged and his fists were balled after he finished his rant. Blaise stood watching him silently, wondering what he should say. He was a little angered that Draco would really prefer having one dead parent and one absent parent compared to what he had now. Then again, the Malfoy's weren't exactly loving or caring toward their only son.

"So you're just going to kill yourself slowly by not eating or sleeping?" Blaise asked a little more harshly then he intended.

Draco groaned, running his hands across his face. "I don't know what I'm doing, alright? But just quit nagging me about it. Until you're in my position-,"

"Stop with the self pity and I'll stop nagging," Blaise interrupted quickly, "Do you think everything's smooth sailing with Luna? Of course not. People make comments about us all the time, people fire hexes at my back when I'm not looking. The only reason that they haven't tried it on Luna, that I know of, is that I'll fucking kill them if they do. So I do understand a bit. I imagine it would be a similar situation if you were to be with Hermione-,"

Draco laughed bitterly, interrupting Blaise. "It would be a completely different situation. If I was openly with her, Merlin knows what my parents would do. They most likely would target her. You seem to think I'm some selfish bastard out to save my own reputation. If I thought all that would be tarnished was my reputation, I'd be openly snogging Hermione in the corridors between classes."

Blaise sighed, running his hands through his messy ebony hair. "It seems like you've already decided then. You can't be with her, not really. And she won't settle for some secret affair. You're just not compatible in that sense. Just move on, and stop moping before I smack you. It's becoming unbearable, mate."

Draco shifted into a sitting position, though he was still half lying down. "I've tried. But it just gets to me that she's not given a shit. I feel pathetic, like I've made up this whole thing in my head, and that she never wanted me in the first place." He looked at Blaise warily out of the corner of his eye, "If you tell anyone I ever said something that wimpy, I'll kick your head in."

Blaise smirked, silently pleased that Draco was at least showing some spirit. "I won't tell anyone, as long as you don't make it a regular occurrence. That's what diaries are for." He joked, earning himself a scowl from Draco.

"On a more serious note, though," Blaise began, "what are you doing? Are you giving up? Are you going to keep pining away? Or are you going to push her up against a shelf in the library and finally have your nasty way with her."

Draco raised an eyebrow, his mouth curving into a small smirk. "The third option does sound nice, but it's Granger we're talking about...I don't have a fucking clue to be honest. The ball's in her goal."

Blaise eyed Draco oddly, trying hard not to laugh at his attempt at a muggle saying. "I think you mean, 'the ball's in her court'? You idiot." Draco cheeks reddened slightly in embarrassment. "And fine, but it seems like waiting for her is leading nowhere, so I think you should give her a little push."

Draco raised his eyebrows curiously, "What sort of 'push'?"

Blaise moved back to his seat across the room, smiling deviously, "Well you wanna get her attention, and make her remember you still exist, since she seems to have forgotten," Draco scowled at this, "and she doesn't want to be your secret. Which means she must want a declaration. So make a declaration, and make it loud and clear."

"...Okay," Draco agreed hesitantly, "when do we start this, then?"

Blaise thought for a moment, before his stomach grumbled loudly. "Tomorrow," he decided, "right now, we eat."

* * *

><p>Blaise smiled rather goofily as a head of long blonde curls popped out of the fireplace. Luna brushed the soot off of her royal blue overalls and pink undershirt, before practically bouncing over to Blaise. He engulfed her in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.<p>

"I missed you already," he said, feeling his heart jump a little as he looked into her blue eyes. She grinned at him.

"I know, it's felt like I haven't seen you in ages. I was just in the middle of writing to you when I got your owl."

Blaise grinned back at her, before they were both pulled from their little world by a loud retching sound from behind them. Blaise sighed as he turned to find Draco sitting casually on the drawing room couch, eyeing the interaction with a disgusted expression.

"Save the lovey-dovey crap for the bedroom, would you? We didn't invite her here so you could stare lovingly into each others' eyes, you know."

Luna merely smiled good-naturedly, while Blaise scowled. Oh, how he wanted to hex his friend sometimes.

"Fine." Blaise agreed, stiffly, "Come sit down, would you, love?" He guided Luna to the couch across from Draco's, while still shooting his friend scathing glances.

"Are you sure it's alright for me to be here?" Luna asked, looking around the large room with interest, "Your father and my father don't exactly see eye to eye, considering all the things that have been printed in the Quibbler."

Draco waved a hand, dismissing the point. "It's fine, my parents aren't here much anyway."

Luna nodded, before turning her attention away from admiring the room to look back at them, "So why did you ask me here? You just said something about Hermione?"

Draco nodded, before leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "You're a girl."

Luna nodded, as though it were an understandable statement. "Well, yes. I have breasts, and reproductive organs, and a-,"

Draco quickly held up a hand to silence her, "Please, shut up now. It wasn't a question. My point is, that despite the fact that you're an..._odd_ girl, you must know what girls like, right? Like all that romantic bullshit?"

Luna nodded, before looking thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I suppose. Blaise can be quite romantic," she said, smiling toward the teen next to her. Blaise grinned back, wiggling his eyebrows, before he heard Draco groan.

"We're not here to discuss how great Zabini is, we're here to discuss ways in which I can impress Granger."

Luna smiled brightly. "So you're finally going to declare your love for her?"

Draco scoffed, his cheeks staining pink. "Now, I never said that. I just want to give her a push. _She's_ in love with _me, _I just want to let her know that it's not completely one sided."

Blaise was sure he'd never seen Draco's face as red as it was after he finished speaking, and he couldn't help but smirk at his friend. Luna seemed to be completely oblivious, or was just politely ignoring it, and was far too busy humming to herself, looking deep in thought.

"So you want to declare your feelings for Hermione in a unique way?" Luna asked after a moment.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, she doesn't want to be a secret, so I'll give her outrageous and see how she likes that instead." He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

Luna hesitated slightly. "Uhhh, you know you'll most likely embarrass her, right?"

Draco nodded once. "Yep, but that's just a bonus."

"You're an idiot," Blaise stated simply.

Draco sat up straight, looking defensive. "Oi! I'm about to spend Merlin knows how many galleons, I should _at least_ get some amusement out of it, right?"

Blaise and Luna exchanged glances, before Luna shrugged. "If you insist. I have some great ideas already."

An hour later, Blaise and Draco were half asleep on the couch, while Luna pointed her wand at another house-elf, transfiguring an over sized jumper to fit its small body. She had spent the hour working on transfiguring the creatures so they resembled humans, and as she stepped back and admired her work, Blaise had to admit that she'd done a pretty good job.

"Do muggles even come in such small sizes?" Draco asked sceptically, eyeing the five transfigured houselves.

Luna nodded. "Yes, they're called midgets. It certainly saves you some money on hiring muggles, doesn't it?"

Draco shrugged. "Yea, but there's also a likely chance some muggles will realise they aren't people. So if this goes wrong, I'm blaming you."

Draco hissed as Blaise elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't be such an ungrateful bastard, and let's just get this over with."

They took hold of the house-elves hands, much to Draco's disgust, and with a crack they apparated away.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke later than usual that morning. She had spent most of the night lost in her thoughts and had only managed to doze off at around 3am. She walked in a tired daze toward the bathroom, showered, and dressed in some warm clothes before heading down stairs.<p>

On her way to the fridge she found a note written in her mother's handwriting.

_Hermione,_

_Your father and I were called into the clinic today. One of our patients was in a biking accident and knocked some teeth out. We should be back soon. If you head out, remember to lock up._

_Love, Mum x_

Hermione set the paper down on the bench before filling up the kettle and heating it up. She headed to the fridge to grab the milk, before realising her mother had used it all last night making hot chocolate. She sighed moodily. All she wanted was some damn tea, and in order to do that she was going to have to run to the corner shop a few blocks up to buy some.

She grabbed some muggle money from a box labelled 'Emergencies' and headed to the door to put on her cloak and boots, before pulling her back over her shoulder and stuffing the money inside. As she stepped outside, she instantly felt the cold wind whip at her face.

She almost turned back, but decided her craving for tea was far too strong, so she began walking swiftly up the footpath toward the corner shop.

She had only walked a few houses down when she heard an odd rustling sound in the bush next to her. She turned and hesitantly eyed the tree, feeling apprehensive. It could be a ferocious dog, or a crazy person waiting to attack her. She didn't know which she would prefer, especially since she couldn't use her wand.

After a moment, the rustling stopped and she hesitantly turned away, before letting out an ear-splitting scream and landing on her back side on the ice-slicked pavement.

In front of her were five odd-looking little people, dressed in beanies, scarves, jumpers, pants and boots, staring down at her with unsettlingly cheerful expressions. Hermione scooted back slightly not even noticing that her pants were getting completely soaked through.

Who were these people? Why were they staring at her? Oh how she wished she could use her wand...

She stood on shaky legs, continuing to eye the group of odd looking little people with a hesitant expression. She jumped when one of them cleared their throat, and began counting down from three. She was even more surprised when they all began singing a pitch that Hermione thought sounded far too much like a house-elf.

"_Heeerrr-miiiio-neeee_," she froze staring at them wide eyed as they began carolling in front of her; a song that seemed to have been written just for her, "_you're making me craaaaaa-zyyyyy. With your hair so friiiiii-zyyyyy-,"_

She gaped indignantly for a moment, before crossing her arms in front of her.

"Now hold it right there! Who put you up to this? My hair is not frizzy anymore," she muttered weakly, flattening her locks self-consciously. The little people merely continued to sing, ignoring her obvious dislike of their 'carol'.

"_Buck-toothed_ _like a_ _beeeea-verrrr-,"_

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, her hands flying to her mouth, "My teeth are _not_ buck-toothed! Leave me alone," She moved around them and continued on her way up the street as hastily as she could.

Unfortunately, the sounds of multiple footsteps followed behind her, with the carollers still singing a verse about her abnormally large teeth. She sped up her footsteps, glancing behind her occasionally only to notice that they were keeping up with her.

Her walk turned into a run, and before she knew it, she was sprinting up the street with five odd looking little people running behind her, singing in a high pitched chorus. She reached the corner shop in record time and slipped through the door, closing it behind her.

The few people who were in the shop looked at her, eyeing her with odd and wary expressions. She blushed slightly, imagining how crazy she must look, but the only real thought on her mind was to get her milk and get home while avoiding those creepy carollers.

She grabbed a carton of milk, and moved to the counter before sitting a handful of change in front of their cashier.

"Keep the change," she said breathlessly, still exhausted from her hasty escape up the street.

She moved toward the door and cautiously glanced out the clear glass. There was no one around that she could see. Had the carollers left when she entered the shop? She really hoped so, because she needed to get home somehow and being followed around by singing midgets would only make her look odd.

"Excuse me, dear," an elderly woman said from behind her. Hermione moved out of the way so the lady could get past and out the door, before taking a deep breath and ducking outside herself.

She looked around warily, only to find the street empty, at least of her singing pursuers. She let out a sigh of relief, before walking down the path in the direction of her house.

She had just crossed the road when she heard the familiar sound of multiple footsteps behind her.

"Oh god," she muttered miserably, turning her head to look over her shoulder to find the five little people once again following her.

"Heeerm-iiiiiiooooo-nneeee," they sang in that sickeningly high pitch, "she sucks at Herbolog-yyyyyyyy-,"

She huffed angrily, before taking off down the road at full speed, looking over her shoulder every few seconds, and noticing much to her chagrin, that they could run fast for having such small legs.

As she got her house, she all but ran into the front door in her haste to unlock it before she slipped inside, and locked the door behind her. She spent the next five minutes running through the house in a paranoid state ensuring all the windows and doors were locked.

She collapsed tiredly on the lounge room floor, her breathing still ragged from her previous exertion. Who would hire a group of creepy looking little people to chase her around singing insulting songs? How pointless and immature!

Frizzy haired? Buck-toothed? Sucks at Herbology? Who would say such horri-

She sat up abruptly, eyes wide. Herbology? How would muggles know about Herbology? And how would they know she wasn't that great at it?

It was then that it hit her. The conversation she'd had with Malfoy a few weeks ago in the library, he'd made a comment about her failure in Herbology.

"Oh, that git!" She grumbled to herself, before running to the front door, unlocking it and speeding across the lawn of her front garden.

She looked around, hoping to find a sign of the 'midgets', or even better, a flash of a blonde haired person that she could chase and then kill slowly and painfully.

She heard the tell-tale 'crack' of apparition from somewhere across the road, signalling that whoever had just been there, had left.

"You're an ass, Malfoy!" She screeched, knowing he couldn't hear her now anyway. She didn't care, either. It was two months worth of frustration coming to the surface.

When she pulled her eyes away from the place she assumed he'd been, she saw an elderly woman and her dog staring at her warily from the path, before they both sped off as quickly as possible down the road.

Hermione groaned inwardly; she must look completely insane. She ran inside her house, and locked the door again. What a start to the day.

At least one thing was certain though; Malfoy was no longer ignoring her. As she slid down the wall, breathless, heart still racing from her previous unsettling experience, she couldn't help the relieved chuckle that came out her mouth. She thought she was going to be attacked by a gang of singing midgets. How ridiculous and paranoid of her.

She was also certain that a bit of the relief had to do with the easing of the sickening weight in her stomach, and the fact that it had been replaced with an odd fluttering feeling. Oh god. She must have missed him even more than she realised.

* * *

><p>Blaise and Draco collapsed on the leather couch, chuckling loudly, as Luna returned the house-elves to their rightful appearances and thanked them for their help.<p>

"Did...did you see...her face?" Draco gasped, in between his laughter. Blaise nodded, unable to speak through his guffaws. It was only when he saw Luna eyeing them both with disapproving expressions, did he stop. Draco, however, continued to chuckle and it was only when Blaise smacked him upside the head that he quit.

"Oi! What was that for?" Draco whined, rubbing the back of his head. It was only then that he seemed to notice Luna's expression.

She was practically glaring at them (an expression neither had seen her adorn before) and she had her arms crossed over her chest. All in all, she looked quite intimidating.

"Did you really think that was funny?" She asked, disbelievingly. Blaise wasn't sure if it was a trick question, and if he said 'yes' would she be mad? He wasn't sure, so for safety's sake, he settled for a head movement that was halfway between a nod and a head shake. Luna just eyed him oddly before turning to Draco.

"You were supposed to be wooing her, not insulting her hair and teeth," She informed him, "I told the house elves to sing a romantic song. Why did you get them to sing that?"

Draco sighed tiredly, as though she were overreacting. "Sappy romance is not my style. Granger knows that, at least she knows I'm not pretending." He shrugged simply, leaning back in his seat.

Luna sighed. "Well I certainly wouldnt want to be with someone who insults me constantly," she said, "Hopefully she didn't realise who organised it...maybe you can start fresh in a few days?"

Draco cocked his head, a small smirk on his face, "It's Granger we're talking about Loony, she would have figured it out."

Blaise glared at Draco for what he had called Luna, but she didn't seem to care. She merely shook her head, as if he didn't understand anything she was saying.

"I suppose you're right," she said after a moment, "But if you ever want her to speak to you again, try a less offensive tactic. I have to be going now anyway, my dad need's help printing the Christmas edition of The Quibbler."

She moved toward Blaise and placed soft kiss on his cheek, before waving at them both and exiting through the fire place. They were silent for a moment before Draco spoke.

"Well I thought it was funny," he muttered.

"You're an idiot though," Blaise said simply, ignoring the scowl Draco gave him, "and besides, it's not supposed to be funny, it's supposed to make her want to talk to you again."

Draco sighed. "Fine. I'll try and be nicer next time," he said, looking as though the mere thought disgusted him.

'Next time' constituted as Christmas day. Blaise and Draco had spent the previous day in the bustling streets of Diagon Ally, searching for the perfect gift. Eventually, after two hours, and countless arguments, Draco had found something for Hermione, and Blaise found something for Luna.

Christmas morning they had spent some time wrapping and sending off their gifts, before opening their own. Draco had been given a new broom; the latest Firebolt. He was currently in the drawing room, whizzing about Blaise's head as the other boy opened his gifts.

His mother had sent him a broom as well, a French model of the Firebolt, the 'Lightening Bolt'. Blaise was grateful that his mother had sent him anything, but was a little disappointed that she didn't seem to know him that well. She must have thought he was some sort of Quidditch player at school, though she'd never really asked.

"Let race these outside; see which one's the fastest!" Draco called from his place hovering above Blaise's head.

"Yeah, alright." Blaise agreed, grabbing his broom and heading out the door. Blaise zoomed past him, dismounting his broom at the end of the hall and racing down the stairs. Blaise rolled his eyes at Draco's juvenile behaviour, though he had to admit it was a relief to have him back to his old self.

Ten minutes later, they were both standing out the front of the manor, looking over the stretching front lawn that went for kilometres until it hit the familiar hedge border. They had raced here many times over the years.

"Alright, get ready," Draco said, mounting his broom, Blaise followed suit. "One, two, three...go!"

They both sped off down the lawn as fast as they could, relishing in the feeling of flying with the occasional snowflake hitting their face. Blaise quickly overtook Draco, and he couldn't help but laugh as he heard the other boys' loud protests from behind.

After a few minutes they reached, the hedge border, and they came to a stop, dismounting their brooms. Blaise's face was completely frozen, but it didn't stop him from continuing to laugh at the sour look on Draco's face.

"I can't believe the French version is better than the British. You've gotta swap with me! You don't even play Quidditch!"

"No way," Blaise said, admiring his broom with a new found interest. Despite the fact that he didn't play Quidditch, and really wouldn't ever use the broom, he wasn't going to give away one of the rare objects that proved his mother still remembered him. Draco would just have to get his own; his father would probably buy him a new one once he heard that the one he'd bought wasn't the best in the world.

"Fine," Draco sighed, sounding miserable, and staring at his own broom with a disappointed expression. After a moment he looked around them, taking in the scenery.

"Haven't been down this far in a while," he commented, a thoughtful expression on his face. Blaise knew he was remembering the day many years ago that they had been caught sneaking over the fence to ride a bike with a muggle girl. They hadn't gone this close to the boundary since, not out of fear of Lucius Malfoy's wrath, but because it had echoed a change in Draco.

After that day he had wanted nothing to do with muggles, and he had never travelled down this close to the gate again. Blaise wondered why he had today.

"Come on," Draco urged, walking down the edge of the hedge toward the gate. Blaise watched with a stunned expression.

"Where are you going?" he asked, walking swiftly to catch up with Draco. The blond turned his head slightly and looked at him with a withering expression, as though he should already know the answer.

"Over the fence, obviously," he answered. He reached the metal gate. Dropped his broom rather carelessly on the ground and climbed across the other side of the fence.

He stood hesitantly glancing around him, as though he expected someone to jump out at him. After a moment of silence, he turned back to Blaise, who was still watching him from the other side of the fence.

"You coming or what?" Draco asked impatiently. Blaise was shocked. This situation had an odd sense of déjà vu about it. He was expecting Lucius to turn up at any second and scold them like he had all those years ago.

Maybe this was an indication that Draco really was changing. Maybe it was a sign that he was reverting back the carefree person he had been when they were young and jumped the fence to speak the muggle girl. Back when he didn't care about blood-status. Maybe...

"Helloooo? Zabini, snap out of it! Climb over the bloody fence already!"

Blaise was torn from his musings to find Draco staring at him with an annoyed expression. He was being ridiculous. It's impossible to forget what you've learnt, but it might be easy to disregard if you don't really believe it in the first place...

Blaise climbed the metal frame of the fence, vaulting over it and landing on the snow slicked ground. He looked around, taking in the scenery. The dirt road that ran parallel with the hedge border was completely covered in snow. All around them was white, except for a few traces of green popping out here and there.

"Well this is boring," Draco muttered, looking around with an unimpressed expression. Blaise nodded in agreement. It seemed a lot more exciting when they were kids.

It was at that moment that a loud shriek was carried by the wind right to their ears. They both shared a wary glance before heading in the direction the sound came from. They walked down the snow-covered road for a few minutes, until they heard another high pitched shriek, except this time it was followed by a giggle.

They shared another uncertain glance before heading past a group of trees toward the sound. They stopped short only to find a group of muggle girls throwing snowballs at each other. They watched for a moment, merely out of curiosity. They'd never been in such close proximity with muggles their age before.

The girls were laughing madly, while dodging and throwing the snowballs at each other. Blaise snuck a glance at Draco, and found him watching the group with furrowed brows as though he were trying to figure out a difficult problem.

Blaise knew he was most likely shocked by the normality of it all; side by side, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a wizard and a muggle by merely looking at them, and they did ordinary things just like he did. It went against everything Draco had been told over the years.

"Hey!" One of the girls called, obviously noticing them standing there. She threw a snowball, of precise aim, which hit Draco square in the head. It pulled him out of his shock and he scowled at them.

Blaise noticed that of the three girls, two of which were now hunched over laughing hysterically, that last stood there staring at both he and Blaise as though she were about to faint. Blaise was curious at this, but didn't get to ponder to long as Draco stormed forward angrily.

"What the hell did you do that for?" he questioned angrily, glaring at the girl who had thrown the snowball. Her and her friend exchanged a glance before turning back to him.

"Obviously because it was hilarious," she said, as though he were stupid. He scowled harder. The girls merely laughed at him.

"What are your names, anyway?" The second girl asked, looking between both Draco and Blaise with curiosity, "I haven't seen you around here before."

Draco didn't look as though he were going to answer politely, so Blaise stepped forward. "I'm Blaise, this is Draco."

The girls shared a glance, before the girl who had thrown the snowball spoke up, "Those are weird names...Oh well. I'm Jessica, this is Hayley," she pointed to the girl next to her, a girl with curly brown hair that resembled Hermione's, "and that's Emily." She finished pointing to the girl with long blonde hair, who was still staring at them as though she'd seen a ghost.

Her two friends seemed to notice, because the shared a worried glance between them. "Are you ok, Emily? Do you know these guys?"

The girl didn't answer, but merely stood there. Blaise was starting to think that maybe she wasn't all there, but after a moment she blinked and said a quick goodbye before running off towards the town in the distance, whose snow topped rooves were only just visible against the white background.

"Ok..." the girl known as Jessica said slowly, watching her friend run away. She turned back to Blaise and Draco. "Sorry about that, I don't know what's wrong with her. So do you guys live around here?"

Blaise knew they couldn't see Malfoy manor since they were muggles, so he lied. "We don't live here; we're just visiting relatives for Christmas."

The girls nodded. "How long are you staying for?" The girl with hair like Hermione asked.

"We go back to school the day after new years." He answered, feeling uncomfortable about what they might ask next.

"So you'll be here for new years then. You should come to a party Emily's having at her house. It's nothing big, just a few kids from the school here. Probably nothing you guys are used to."

Blaise shared a hesitant glance with Draco, "Uh, I dunno-,"

"Oh, come on!" Jessica insisted, "It's got to be better then hanging out with your relatives."

"I dunno," Blaise hesitated, "We'll see what happens."

The girls grinned. "Great! Emily's address is 16 Chaplehurst Street. It's not that difficult to find. Her parents are away on a cruise so it should be fine for you to come. We should probably go and see what's wrong with her anyway. I suppose we might see you there."

They both waved goodbye and left in the direction their friend had just moments before, leaving Blaise and Draco standing in the snow. Draco let out a breath, before turning to Blaise.

"Are all muggles that obnoxious?" he asked, a trace of annoyance in his voice. He obviously hadn't gotten over his anger at the snowball incident.

Blaise shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I've not had much interaction with them. All I know is we're definitely not going to that party."

Draco nodded in agreement. "No argument here. They're weird. Not as bad as I expected...but still weird."

Blaise chuckled as they turned and headed back toward the manor; perhaps not all hope for Draco was lost, after all.

* * *

><p>Hermione sat on the sofa in the over-crowded living room in her house, squashed between her Grandmother, and her Aunty. She was listening to the sounds of her extended family rip open presents, with her younger cousins running around the home screeching loudly as they played. Hermione loved her family dearly, but Merlin did she wish she could cast a Silencio on those kids.<p>

Most of her family was here for Christmas; her Grandparents, her Aunty and her family, and her family on her father's side. Her favourites, however, was her mother's sister, Aunt Edith, and her mother's mother, Grandma Jean, who were both currently seated on either side of her. The reason she liked them so much was because they were the only ones who knew about Hermione's magic.

None of the family on her father's side were told about it, much to her father's wishes. They thought she went to a prestigious boarding school for the gifted in Scotland. At least it wasn't a _complete_ lie.

Her father had said that his family probably wouldn't understand, and so they had made the decision not to tell them. Besides, the less people that knew, the better.

That was why Hermione appreciated her Aunt and Grandmother a lot. They knew, and they still accepted her, and even showed an interest in what she could do. Despite that, however, all she really wanted to do at the present moment was escape to her room upstairs in the pleasant silence.

She had already opened most of her gifts (the ones that she could open in front of muggles), and they were just waiting for her cousins to finish opening there's before they had lunch.

"I'm sorry about the noise, Mione," Her Aunt Edith said from next to her, watching her sons run around the room hollering, "the boys are a nuisance. You're probably thankful you're an only child right now."

Hermione laughed. "No, it's great to see the house so full. I think my parents get lonely when I'm away."

Her Aunt nodded in understanding. "We'll have to visit more then."

Hermione nodded in agreement. Her parents would like that.

"So have you got a boyfriend yet, dear?" her grandmother asked from the other seat on the couch, "I imagine the boys at that school can't take their eyes off you. You're such a pretty girl."

Hermione blushed awkwardly, remembering her multiple kissed with a certain blond Slytherin. Her expression caused her Aunt to chuckle.

"Mum, I don't think she wants to talk about that, do you Hermione? Don't worry; she used to do the same to your mum and me. It's why we never brought boys home. She always asked them when they were going to propose."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at this. Her grandmother was straight to the point.

"Hermione, dear," She heard her mother call as she approached from the kitchen, "this just came in the post." She handed Hermione a small package wrapped in silver paper, while giving her a pointed look, obviously referring to owl post and not the regular muggle method.

Hermione took the package and stared at it curiously. Who would have sent her this? Neville's present had already arrived this morning...

"Well are you going to open it?" her grandmother prodded with a twinkle in her eye, "it might be from a boy."

Hermione wondered idly whether it was. Would he...? No. He wouldn't send her a gift. That would be crazy. Then again, it was proven that Draco Malfoy was slightly crazy.

She slowly opened the silver wrapping paper, to find a velvet box inside. Next to her, her Aunt and Grandma were looking over her shoulder with unbridled interest. She slowly opened the velvet box and audibly gasped at what she saw inside.

It was a necklace. The most elegant piece of jewellery Hermione had ever seen. The chain was long and silver, and it had a large pendent on it, which Hermione realised was a silver seashell. She lifted it out of the box and admired the way it sparkled in the light.

Had he really given her this? Really? It must have cost a fortune.

"Looks to me as though you have an admirer," her Grandma said from beside her. Hermione blushed.

"He's certainly a gentlemen. Knows exactly what to give a girl to get her attention," her Aunt said, smiling slyly at Hermione flushed expression.

It was only as she placed the necklace back in the box that she realised there as a small piece of parchment folded at the bottom. She didn't really want to read it with her family looking over her shoulder, so she excused herself and ran all the way up to her bedroom, oblivious of the knowing smiles her Grandma and Aunty were sharing.

She collapsed on her bed, feeling her heart race, though she was sure it was from the absurdity of Draco Malfoy giving her a gift, rather than her exertion. She reopened the jewellery box and pulled out the parchment. She unfolded it and began to read the message that had come with her gift.

_This locket will play you a nice tune, for as long as I feel strongly about you. Let this be proof enough. You just have to hold it against your ear like a real seashell. Hopefully you aren't too stupid to realise who 'I' is, if so, there's a reason you're failing Herbology. Have a Merry Christmas, Granger._

_P.S. I've been forced to apologize for the singing house-elf incident. I hope you won't hold it against me, despite the fact it was hilarious. I haven't laughed so hard for a while. But I think it proved my point that sometimes subtlety is best when it comes to certain things, maybe you agree now._

Hermione let out a long breath as she finished the letter. Her insides were fluttering about like crazy. She refolded the parchment and placed it neatly back inside the box. Gently, she picked up the seashell pendent, and placed it against her ear, almost expecting to hear the ocean.

She gasped, however, when she heard the most beautiful melody from the small object. It was almost ethereal, not like any sound an instrument could make. The fact that this small melody meant that he felt something for her was almost too much to believe.

She lay back against her pillow, with the silver shell still against her ear. Moving it away, she found she could no longer hear the beautiful tune. Maybe...just maybe, the most beautiful things in life could be hidden...

She suddenly realised that that was exactly what Draco wanted her to realise, and she almost wanted to send the gift back, just to disprove his point. But she knew, deep down that she would regret it if she did.

She put the shell back against her ear, and relished in the sound it produced. This was proof. This was physical proof that he felt something for her. It wasn't just words anymore. Did she care if anyone else knew? Not really. Would she show anyone else her gift? No.

So why did it matter whether they showed their feelings to others? She didn't know...

She sighed and sat up, slipping the silver chain around her neck, before she headed back downstairs. She had a lot of thinking to do. Hermione Granger was once again confused because of Draco Malfoy.

* * *

><p>New Year's eve came around quicker than Blaise realised, and for the first time since they had been at the manor for the holidays, he and Draco were sharing an incredibly tense dinner with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.<p>

The couple had been absent from the manor so much that neither Blaise nor Draco had seen either one of them in their time there. Lucius was sitting at the end of the impersonally long table, talking about some Ministry issue, while Narcissa sat at the other end, looking as though her thoughts were elsewhere.

They most likely were; she'd never been a very attentive woman. She seemed to prefer to spend her time visiting friends, then with her family. Blaise supposed it must be a habit of Pure-blooded women to just be distant from their families. Though, at least Narcissa was still in the same country as Draco.

Draco and Blaise were situated in the middle of the table, across from one another. They would share bored looks occasionally; especially since they wanted nothing more than to eat their food and leave, but manners and Lucius' wrath told them it would be best to stay and at least pretend to give a crap about what the elder Malfoy was whining about.

"So, Marty Crouchwell, a Mudblood, has been promoted to head of the Muggle Division." Lucius began, sipping from his wine glass, "I couldn't believe it when I heard! Having a mudblood deal with muggle issues? It's just ridiculous! A conflict of interest!"

Blaise and Draco exchanged glances. They knew this topic would set Lucius off on a tangent which would have them sitting there for hours.

"Personally, I think the Ministry should disallow Mudbloods to work there. They have far too many connections to the muggle world-,"

"Muggleborns aren't so bad," Draco said, sounding as though he hadn't meant to voice that opinion.

The whole table fell silent and even Narcissa looked shocked as she stared at her only son. Blaise sat still, his posture rigid, waiting for the inevitable outburst from Lucius. He wasn't disappointed.

"What did you just say?" Lucius bellowed, standing angrily and causing the cutlery in front of him to tip over. "You're feeling sympathetic toward those with Muggle origins? That is not how I raised you, boy! You are better than such filth! That old fool Dumbledore keeps rattling on about equality, and it really has started to rot your brain! So much so, that you can't even beat a mere Mudblood in class! Get out of my sight! You're a disappointment for a son! Expect repercussions for your words!"

Both boys shared a glance toward Narcissa, who was looking thoroughly bored at Lucius' outburst. She nodded toward the door and neither of them thought twice before speeding out of the room, leaving a furious Lucius behind them.

"Well, shit," Blaise began his voice laced with sarcasm as they headed toward the drawing room, "that was possibly the best thing you could've said to your old man."

Draco scowled. "Shut up. I didn't fucking mean to say it, I was just thinking about Granger, and it slipped out."

Blaise laughed humourlessly. "You picked a great moment for that slip-up. I hate to think of what he'll do now..."

They reached their favourite room and entered through the large doors, immediately heading toward the couches in front of the fire.

Draco slumped down in his seat, looking frustrated. "I don't really care anymore. I'm sick of it, to be honest. If he had half a brain, he'd realise there's no real difference anyway. But his pureblood is the only thing he's got, he certainly doesn't have brains."

Blaise was taken aback. He'd never heard Draco be so blatantly disrespectful about his father before. It certainly proved that some things had changed.

"Let's go to that muggle party," Draco said suddenly. Blaise stared at him incredulously. He must have misheard.

"What?"

"The muggle party, let's go."

Blaise, once again, stared at him, unable to believe what he'd just heard. "Why would you do that? You said they were obnoxious."

Draco shrugged. "I wanna check it out. We'll get Potter and Weasley to come with us. They'll keep those girls busy; I didn't particularly like the way they were looking at me..."

Blaise leaned back in his seat, eyeing Draco suspiciously. "You're doing this just to go against your father." He stated, plainly. The flicker in Draco's eye told him he had guessed correctly.

"No, I'm not. Besides, they're just like us without magic right? That's what you always said. Let's just go, mate. I'm gonna get punished for that comment I made before, anyway. I may as well do something worthwhile while I'm at it."

Blaise hesitated. He knew that Draco would be in some serious trouble if he was caught at a muggle party. Lucius would probably do more than just crack his cane across his knuckles, especially since the man was drinking tonight.

Then again, Blaise was enjoying this new-found open-mindedness of Draco's. He would normally scoff at the idea of attending a muggle party; it was so unlike him. Blaise knew he was only doing it because he hated his father and would do anything to piss him off right now, but that still didn't stop him from relenting, and agreeing to go to the ridiculous party.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, Potter and Weasley appeared out of the fireplace dressed in muggle clothes. Both of them were grinning from ear to ear at the thought of the party. Blaise assumed Weasley was excited at the prospect of meeting muggle girls, and since Potter already associated with muggles, he assumed the teen was just excited at the prospect of meeting girls in general.<p>

"So you guys ready to go?" Draco asked, as they met in the middle of the room. The three other boys nodded.

"Great. We'll be flying our brooms out the window and across the front yard. Unfortunately, there are only two brooms, so we'll have to double up. I'm with Blaise, since I'm still uncertain about your sexualities," Draco finished, grinning as Potter and Weasley scowled at him, clearly not finding amusement at the comment.

They hopped on the brooms in pairs and flew out the large open window of the drawing room, turning the brooms into a steep dive until they were a few metres above the ground. They soared across the expanse of ground in front of the manor until they reached the edge of the hedge. They jumped of the brooms and sat them against the familiar metal gate as they all jumped over.

"We've gotta walk from here," Draco informed them. Weasley groaned.

"This is why I hate muggles. They've gotta walk everywhere."

"Actually," Potter began, "They don't-,"

"Don't bother trying to explain it to him," Blaise interrupted. He and Potter shared a grin at Weasley's expense. The teen was dimmer than Draco when it came to muggle culture.

Ten minutes later, the stood on a tar road, at the edge of the small town. The sound of music could be heard in the silence, and Blaise assumed that was their destination.

"I suppose it'd just be easier to follow the music," he said. The others agreed and once again they set off toward the party. Five minutes later, they found themselves standing in front of the house the loud music was coming from. Blaise assumed this was the right house, since it was the only one on the street that showed signs of life.

They walked towards the door, and just as they were about to open it, a boy their age raced out and vomited on the front lawn, before collapsing in it. They eyed him with disgust.

"That's fucking disgusting," Potter said, turning away from the teen, "Let's just get away from him."

They entered the house and were surprised to find it rather packed, considering how small the population in the town seemed to be. The lighting was dim, though there were a few bright lights that flickered different colours that lit the place up occasionally.

Blaise didn't recognise any of the music playing, but thought it didn't sound too bad. Overall, it was different to the parties he'd attended, but similar in many ways. Muggles really weren't that different.

"Great! You guys came!" A voice shouted from behind them. Blaise recognised her as one of the girls they'd met just days before. "And you brought friends!"

Blaise nodded, "Yeah, I hope you don't mind."

She smiled. "Of course not! I actually wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine; she's gorgeous-,"

"Actually, I've got a girlfriend." Blaise informed her. She looked a little put out, but brightened up considerably when Potter and Weasley told her they were single. She sent them off in the direction of her friends, before turning to Draco.

"What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?" Blaise was certain her curiosity about Draco's relationship status was for her own personal interest.

"Yeah, I've got a girlfriend," Draco answered. Blaise eyed him with a raised eyebrow, but Draco merely ignored him. The girl pouted.

"That's a shame. Oh well, you guys help yourselves to a drink. I might come and hit you up for a dance later!"

With that she left the two boys standing there surrounded by dancing muggles. It was then that Draco turned to Blaise, a concerned expression on his face.

"Did she just say she was going to hit us? Are all muggles so aggressive?"

Blaise shrugged, before smiling deviously. "So what's this about you having a girlfriend?"

Draco scowled at his tone, but Blaise could see him blushing slightly. "Close enough. And besides, I don't want muggle girls hitting on me all night."

Unfortunately for Draco, the muggle world was similar to the wizarding world in that having a girlfriend did not stop girls from hitting on you. After Draco was dragged off by a girl for what seemed like the tenth time that night, Blaise leaned against the wall by himself, sipping from his drink. It tasted horrible.

"Hi," he heard someone greet from next to him. He looked down and found himself face to face with the hostess of the party. The girl that had been acting so oddly the other day when they'd found them throwing snowballs. Emily was her name, he remembered.

"Hi," he greeted back in return. He certainly hoped she wasn't going to drag him off to dance.

She smiled. "You don't remember me, do you?"

He furrowed his brow. How could he forget someone he met only a few days ago? "Sure I do. You were there when your friends through a snowball at my mates head."

She laughed, though it seemed rather forced. "No, I've met you before that. Years ago, I was riding my bike up the road, when I ran into you two."

Blaise suddenly remembered. "Oh yeah," he commented hesitantly.

"You were both...odd," The girl continued, "Saying all this stuff about magic. And then that scary guy came and I rode off. I remember telling my mum that you said you could do magic, and that you said your house was invisible to me. She told me I had probably imagined it, and I believed it. But when I saw you both the other day, I nearly fainted. It meant it was real."

Blaise tried not to let the panic he was feeling internally show on his face. Instead he let out a chuckle. "Yeah, we were imaginative kids back then. One day we were wizards, the next we were Dragon Tamers."

Only he could appreciate the irony in that statement.

She laughed, though she looked a little saddened. "I'm kind of disappointed that I saw you the other day."

He raised his eyebrows. And she shook her head quickly. "No I don't mean it in a rude way. I just mean, well, don't laugh, but when I met you the first time, since that day I've always wanted to believe there was magic in the world. Meeting you now and realising you were just a couple of kids playing around kind of kills it."

Blaise nodded. In this way, he felt sorry for muggles. They'd never know what things were possible with magic.

"Well you never know," he joked, trying to brighten the situation, "I might really be a wizard, but I'm just not allowed to tell you because you're a muggle."

He thought she would grin at this but she looked more calculating, than anything. "That's what you called me when I first saw you-,"

She was interrupted by Draco running over to them, his breathing coming out in shallow pants. "Weasley's gone and snogged some muggle and it turned out she had a boyfriend. We need to leave _now_, because he's about to get the shit kicked out of him, and I'm not helping him. I need to retain my good looks for wooing Granger."

Blaise didn't notice the astonished look that crossed Emily's face as she once again heard them use the word 'muggle'. They hadn't even realised they'd said it. They also didn't notice her staring after them in shock, as the four of them raced out the front door of the house and ran down the street, being chased by three muggle boys who were yelling out profanities and threats.

By the time they made it back the gate where they'd left their brooms, they were all breathing heavily and bent doubled trying to steady their heartbeats.

"You idiot, Weasley!" Draco scolded in between breaths, "You could have gotten us all beaten up."

"It's not my fault! I didn't know she had a boyfriend!" The redhead retorted defensively.

Draco shook his head impatiently, obviously choosing to ignore the teen. Instead he climbed the gate and grabbed a broom.

"Let's just get back up there before we get caught," he said, mounting the broom. The others followed suit, and moments later they were flying through the sky and through the window of the drawing room.

Potter and Weasley headed directly toward the fireplace, and grabbed some floo powder.

"Mum'll kill us if she found out we left," Weasley explained, "Catchya later."

"Cya," Potter said, as they threw the powder in and stepped into the green flames.

Blaise sighed. "That was the worst idea ever. That muggle girl started asking questions."

Draco scoffed. "You think that was bad? I had muggle girls groping me all over-,"

"What's this about muggles?" A cool voice asked from behind them. They both froze and turned to find Lucius standing at the doorway; arms crossed looking as though he were ready to kill.

"I noticed you were missing for a couple of hours. So you were out socialising with that filth were you? You're a disgrace to the Malfoy name, boy. Come with me."

Lucius moved forward purposefully and grabbed Draco by the scruff of his neck. The teen struggled a bit, but seemed to understand that it would only make things worse, and eventually allowed his father to push him toward the door and to his inevitable punishment.

Blaise moved to stand in front of them. From that close proximity he could smell the Firewhiskey on Lucius breath. This would only make it worse for Draco. "Look, it wasn't his idea, I made him-,"

"Perhaps so," Lucius interrupted, "but he still has a mind of his own-,"

"Yes he does!" Blaise exclaimed, "He doesn't have to think like _you_!"

"Do not raise your voice at me in my own home," Lucius said in a threatening tone. Blaise glanced at Draco long enough to see the teen shake his head. He was telling him to let it go.

Blaise sighed, before moving out of the way of Lucius, who continued to push Draco out the door.

The next twenty minutes were some of the longest of Blaise's life. He was fearful for his best mate. His brother. Lucius had been drinking, so no doubt Draco would have some injuries. He always had, though he hadn't been punished by Lucius for a while.

Eventually Blaise couldn't take it anymore. He had waited for long enough for Draco to return, but he hadn't. Instead, Blaise left the drawing room in search of his friend.

He found him minutes later, curled in a ball against the hallway wall. As Blaise approached him, he saw his face was covered in blood from where he had a broken nose. He was covered in a thick sheen of sweat and was pale and trembling. He'd never seen Draco look so undone.

Blaise kneeled down and pulled his friend off the ground, ensuring he supported his weight. He also noticed curiously, that Draco's muscles were twitching and spasming under his grasp. Blaise remembered reading somewhere once that it was a lasting effect of the Cruciatis Cur-

Blaise froze as a heavy feeling of dread his him right in the stomach. He looked down at Draco, and found that he was barely conscious. There was blood dripping all over the floor. He had been tortured; there was no other word to describe this. It certainly wasn't 'punishment'.

"Fuck," Blaise swore, feeling himself begin to panic. He didn't know what to do, or how to help him.

Blaise practically carried Draco into the drawing room and laid him on one of the couches. He used a simple healing spell on Draco's nose, but knew that there was nothing he could do for the after-effects of the Cruciatis Curse.

He felt the anger race through him as he thought of how Lucius could do that to his own son and wanted to nothing more than to find the man and hex him into pieces. That wouldn't help anything though.

Instead he spent the next hour watching over Draco. The boys' muscles would twitch occasionally, but other than that he didn't move once. Blaise eventually got a wet cloth from a bathroom nearby and sat it on Draco's forehead, hoping to stop the fever he seemed to have.

Another hour passed, and Blaise heard a groan from the other sofa. He raced over to find Draco was awake, though he still looked ill and completely disoriented. After a moment, he noticed Blaise standing over him and seemed to realise what was going on.

"How long have I been out?" He asked in a croaky voice, "What's the time?"

Blaise looked at the clock in the corner of the room. "You've been out for about two hours. It's 12:15am. Happy new year, mate." He added sardonically.

Draco managed a small chuckle, before groaning in pain.

"Happy fucking new year, indeed."

They spent the rest of the night in the drawing room; Draco recovering, and Blaise watching over him. It was moments like these that Blaise realised how heavily they relied on each other. In reality, they were the only family that they each had.

As the sun rose on the new day and Draco fell back to sleep, Blaise couldn't help but hope that the events of last night were not an indication of what was to come in the new year.

**A/N: I'm so sorry this took forever to upload. I should be back to my normal upload schedule now (once a week). Once again, I'm very sorry.**

**Let me know what you think of this chapter, please. I spent the whole night writing this so I could upload it today and I'm about to collapse on my key board from exhaustion.**

**Anyways, thanks to all those who have read and subscribed, and favourited and all that. I love you!**

**Cheers,**

**Leni**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 15**  
><em>

_...in which Hermione finally makes a decision.  
><em>

_Breathe. Just breathe, Hermione. _The panicked witch told herself, while her back leant upon the cold stone wall just outside the entrance to the library. Normally she wouldn't be so nervous about entering the library; after all, it was her favourite place in all of Hogwarts. Currently it was the place she wanted to run away from.

Because, Draco Malfoy was in there.

She took a few more deep breaths to calm herself, before she opened the large Library doors and stepped inside. She began to walk through the shelves, searching for a flash of platinum hair. She found it, in Blaise's and her usual study area.

He was calmly reading a book, looking much less cocky than he usually did. Hermione stood there for a moment, wondering if she was about to do the right thing. One glance at the shell necklace in her hand, and a nervous grimace later, she convinced herself she was. As she stepped forward from amongst the book shelves, she couldn't help but scowl at the thought of the events that day that had brought her to this point.

* * *

><p><em>Earlier that day...<em>

Hermione awoke early that Monday morning, gathering her things and getting ready for her lessons. The students had arrived back at Hogwarts the previous night, and lessons were resuming that day. To be honest, she hadn't missed sleeping in her dorm, nor waking up to the sound of Lavender Browns snores. It was one thing Hermione could do without.

She made her way down to the Gryffindor common room and was greeted by the smiling faces of Neville and Ginny who were gathered around the fire in the comfy chairs. It was an odd sight, considering she had never seen them together when she wasn't around.

Hermione eyed the two Gryffindors suspiciously before making her way over to them.

"Why are you up so early?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow, crossing her arms in front of her. Ginny merely grinned back.

"Don't be so suspicious, Hermione," she laughed, "Neville's helping me with my Herbology homework. I may have..._forgotten_ to do it over the holidays."

Hermione looked between the two and saw that, in fact, they were looking from textbooks and jotting down notes. "Oh," she said weakly, her arms dropping to her sides. She really needed to get her head together, ever since the horrible incident at Christmas with those creepy carollers, she had been suspicious of everything and everyone.

"Why are you so suspicious, anyway?" Ginny asked, after eyeing her for a moment. "I saw you get Dean and Seamus last night because you thought they were smuggling in dung bombs."

Hermione laughed nervously, feeling foolish at the memory of rounding up Dean and Seamus, when they hadn't been doing anything wrong. She could have sworn they were though; they had such mischievous looks on their faces...

"I just had an interesting holiday that's all...it's left me a little paranoid."

Both Ginny and Neville looked up from their work and eyed her curiously. "Dare I ask?" The red-head questioned.

"It's probably best if you don't..." Hermione said with an apologetic smile.

Ginny nodded slowly, before her eyes trailed down Hermione's neck and brightened considerably.

"Who gave you such an extravagant gift?" She asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye that instantly had Hermione on edge. She lifted her hand and found the shell pendant, grasping it in her palm.

"Nobody." She said quickly. Too quickly. Ginny cocked her head to the side and gave her a disbelieving look.

"If it was nobody, you wouldn't be getting so touchy," The younger girl said with a devious smirk that could have rivalled Draco Malfoy. That thought only turned Hermione's cheeks a violent scarlet colour, hence making her look more guilty than ever.

"It was nobody," she said again, barely containing her emotions, she needed to escape before she said something incriminating. "I'm going to go to breakfast. You two should probably stay here and finish up. Bye!"

With that she raced out the portrait hole leaving a very confused Neville and suspicious Ginny staring after her. As she sped down the hallway, she pulled the chain over her head and stared at the shiny silver pendent sitting in her hand.

"Why am I even wearing this?" She muttered to herself, "It's not as though I've made a decision."

Hermione had been wearing the silver chain around her neck since she received it. She wasn't even sure why she had been; she almost forgot it was there. She hated to think that she'd been wearing it because it meant something to her.

_It does mean something to you._

She sighed miserably, before stuffing the chain in her robe pocket. Having it touching her skin right now was just too much. While Hermione was supposed to be a brave Gryffindor, her feelings for Draco were not something she felt she was able to tackle head-on.

She had no doubt what her feelings were, but the fact that it was _him,_ of all people, left her reluctant. She still was uncertain if she could squash her pride that much. That was the only problem.

* * *

><p>Hermione sat in Herbology beside Neville later that morning, taking notes as Professor Sprout discussed the used of Bubotuber Pus. Neville's quill was studiously running across his page, looking as though he were trying to write word-for-word what the Professor was lecturing. Hermione, was far less enthusiastic, and would often find herself staring into space.<p>

"...Now I want you to pair up, and work together in extracting the Bubotuber pus." Professor Sprout said, "You did this in your fourth year, remember, I don't expect anyone to get it wrong."

Hermione, who had been staring into space once again, didn't move until Neville tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to find him eyeing her with a concerned expression.

"Are you ok?" he asked, as he sat a large bowl and knife on the table, "You've been a bit out of it all morning."

Hermione sighed, coming to stand beside her friend at the table. "I'm sorry," she said, picking up a swelling of the plant, "I've just had a lot on my mind."

Neville nodded, before glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, "Does this have something to do with the person who gave you that fancy necklace?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she almost dropped the plant in her hand. "N-no!" She said, too quickly.

Neville sighed. "We're best friends, Hermione. You can tell me these things. I may be a guy, and might not be able to give you advice like Ginny, but I can still listen."

Hermione felt an instant rush of affection for her friend, and began to realise that by not telling him the truth, she was being a horrible friend. The only problem was she knew he wouldn't take it well.

She glanced sideways at Neville cutting into the swelling of Bubotuber pus and felt an intense urge to let him in on her secret.

She breathed in deeply, trying to obtain some of that courage she was supposed to have before saying, "The person who gave me the necklace...It's Draco Malfoy."

Hermione really should have picked a better time to blurt out such shocking information, because at that moment, Neville's head whipped around, his expression one of shock as he cried, "What?"

His hand, which had been holding a knife ready to slab the swelling of pus, slammed downward popping the small pus-ball and sending the foul-smelling yellow substance exploding over both of them. The rest of the class stared in shock as numerous boils began to appear over both of them in all the places where the pus had hit their skin.

Professor Sprout raced over frantically, berating them for making such a foolish mistake. Neville was apologising profusely, and Hermione knew he hated disappointing the professor of his favourite subject. The round woman shooed them out of the greenhouses toward the hospital wing, lecturing them about paying attention in the future.

As they walked into the castle, Hermione turned to Neville looking apologetic. He still looked like he was in shock, whether it was from her confession or the fact that he was covered in boils, she didn't know. All she knew was that it was her fault.

"I'm sorry," she said, earnestly, "really, I am. I should have told you sooner...and at a more appropriate time." He said eyeing the boils popping up on his face. She could only imagaine how horrible she looked right now.

Neville sighed, as they made their way up the staircase. "So you've really been seeing Malfoy in secret?"

"No." She disagreed quickly, desperate to make him understand, "It's not like that. We aren't even an item. He just says he has feelings for me, and I...I guess I feel something back. It's not like we've been sneaking around."

Neville didn't look appeased, in fact, he looked more distraught. "You like him?" he all but cried, "After everything he's done to you? How could you like him?"

Hermione stood shocked for a moment watching him stomp along the corridor, quite surprised at Neville's outburst. She'd never seen him so annoyed. She began jogging to catch up with him as he walked down the third floor corridor toward the hospital wing.

"I don't know why I like him, I just do." She said, in an attempt to make him understand, "It's not like I made a conscious choice to have feelings for him...it just happened."

They stopped outside the large wooden doors of the hospital wing, and it was then that Neville turned to her.

"_Him_ though? Why not Zabini? Why not Hopkins? Why _him_? After everything he's done, Hermione, you should hate him."

Hermione looked at her feet, unable to stand the disappointment in Neville's expression. She knew it was illogical for her to like Malfoy. If anything, the logical choice would have been Zabini, but it hadn't worked that way.

"I'm not saying he's changed," she began slowly, "but he has been a lot more decent to me lately. To both of us, actually. I don't expect you to understand, but I would like you to just accept that."

She saw Neville shift on his feet, a sign that his resolve was weakening. "Fine." He muttered after a moment, "I won't say anything else, except this: he's going to hurt you."

Hermione looked into Neville's eyes, and the certainty she found there when he'd said that gave her shivers. She didn't get to ponder on it too much as Neville pushed open the doors of the hospital wing, and slipped inside, holding them open for Hermione to follow.

She was glad that he had taken it as well as he had, and happy that she no longer had to hide it from him.

It was only after lunch that day that Hermione would once again have to explain herself.

* * *

><p>"Out of my way!" An angry, feminine voice growled from the other end of the corridor.<p>

Hermione had been on her way to Ancient Runes when she heard the outburst and had paused in her travels out of mere duty, she was after all, a prefect, and if anyone was going to get hexed she was prepared to take points.

Hermione turned toward the source of the voice, along with many of the other people around her. The sea of students parted and Hermione caught a glimpse of a furious red-head stomping down the corridor.

Hermione felt sorry for whoever was the target of Ginny Weasley's wrath, until she realised miserably, that the girl was headed straight for her. She cursed inwardly.

The younger girl stopped in front of Hermione, arms crossed, practically crackling with fury. Hermione cowered slightly at the sight, and the students around them gathered in a circle to eye the exchange, before Ginny sent them the nastiest look she could muster. It sent them scattering immediately.

"Ginny, I'm going to be late for Ancient-,"

"Screw Ancient Runes," the red-head interrupted. "I want to hear about this business with Malfoy."

Hermione, in that moment, wanted nothing more than to strangle Neville. That is, until she saw him frantically racing toward her from the other end of the corridor, being chased by flying bogies.

"Hermione!" He cried, dodging a particularly large bogie as it swooped him, "I'm sorry! I tried to lie, but she just knew. Then she hexed me!"

Hermione whipped around to glare at Ginny, who at least had the decency to look sheepish. "I can't believe you'd hex Neville! I'm going to have to deduct ten points."

Ginny sighed, waving her wand toward Neville, who was still dodging his own flying bogies, before they disappeared. Neville breathed a sigh of relief, before collapsing against the wall trying to collect himself.

"I'm sorry, Neville," Ginny said after a moment, "but my brother _is_ a Slytherin, and certain things rub off onto me." She shrugged as though it couldn't be helped.

Hermione scoffed, still glaring at the red-head, unable to believe that she would perform a Bat-bogey hex on a fellow Gryffindor.

"I can't believe you," Hermione said shaking her head in disbelief.

Ginny scoffed, before turning to Hermione with an accusing eye. "No. _I_ can't believe _you_. Malfoy gave you that necklace? Are you secretly shagging him or something?"

Hermione sputtered for a moment, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I have not been shagging him!"

Ginny eyed her sceptically for a moment, before relaxing slightly. "Ok...I believe you on _that_, but you've clearly been doing something for him to give you such a romantic gift."

Hermione blushed again, silently wishing Neville, who was watching the exchange with interest, would leave for his next class already. She didn't want to discuss _that_ sort of thing in front of him, and she was certain he didn't want to hear it.

"Listen, Ginny, can we discuss this later? Maybe when we aren't standing in a corridor where anyone and everyone can hear? I'll meet you after dinner or something."

Ginny looked as though she were about to protest, but after noticing a group of 4th year girls making their way up toward them, she nodded. "Fine. But don't think you're getting out of this. I want to know _all_ the details."

Hermione couldn't help but feel relieved when the red-head turned and began walking back the way she'd come just minutes before. Malfoy was not a subject Hermione wanted to discuss with the younger Gryffindor, especially since they had a past together.

She knew Ginny had harboured feelings for Draco in the past, and wasn't sure whether she still held a grudge toward the Slytherin for how he'd merely shown no regard for her feelings. Chances were, she probably did. Would she be annoyed to learn that he liked Hermione, and that deep down Hermione liked him back just as strongly?

She wondered what Ginny's reaction would be if she told her that she'd snogged him. Well, not voluntarily, but still, it was an amazing kiss. Would Ginny be angry at Hermione? Would she be jealous?

Hermione didn't know, having never really dealt with female friends and their emotions in the past, all she did know is that she enjoyed having a female around to talk to, and she only hoped she wouldn't lose Ginny over what was happening with Draco.

It was only then that Hermione realised she was in a sort of 'limbo'. She hadn't rejected Draco's advances, like she had so much in the past, but she also hadn't accepted them. It was almost a peaceful in-between where she didn't have to make any tough decisions, she didn't have to hurt anyone. It was great.

Hermione wasn't naive, however, and she knew she would have to make a decision sooner or later.

Was she going to accept Draco, or refuse him again?

In all honesty, Hermione was swaying a little more to one side than the other. She wanted to accept him.

She wanted to forget the past and just go with what she knew him to be now. She knew he wasn't perfect (hell, _she_ was far from perfect), she also knew he could be quite arrogant, immature and just plain idiotic at times. But funnily enough, she didn't mind.

That was what had surprised Hermione the most. She thought in order to have any feelings for someone, they had to be remotely normal, sane and bearable. Malfoy was neither of those and yet she found the time she spent around him to be quite pleasant.

Yes, he annoyed her. Yes, he wound her up endlessly. And, yes, they did argue a lot. But despite that, she often found herself secretly enjoying the attention he paid to her, merely because she knew it really did mean something.

The silver necklace in her pocket was proof enough of that. Draco Malfoy liked her and she liked him. It should be simple. But it wasn't. Nothing was ever simple.

Hermione was pulled out of her thoughts by Neville tapping her on the shoulder, she looked up to find him eyeing her with a concerned expression.

"You're not angry, are you?" He asked, looking like the mere idea of her being mad at him was unbearable, "I'm sorry I told Ginny, really. But she cornered me, and then hexed me. I panicked. She really isn't one to be messed with."

Hermione shook her head, offering Neville a comforting smile. "It's ok, Nev. I know how scary she can be. I'm just worried about what I'm going to tell her."

He nodded in understanding. "If you like, I can come with you when you talk to her. Just in case she tries to hex you too."

Hermione chuckled at his concern. "I don't think she'll try that. Besides, this is something between girls." She paused for a moment. "I don't think I've ever said something like that before. But then again, I suppose I've never had to deal with this sort of thing."

Neville grinned. "I'm glad you've got a friend who's a girl. I guess I'd probably be rubbish to talk to about it. I just want you to know, Hermione, that I've thought about it since I found out this morning. You and Malfoy, I mean."

Hermione grimaced, "And?"

He took a deep breath, as though it took a lot to say. "And if you're happy with him, no matter how crazy it seems to me, I'm fine with it."

Hermione could see from the expression on his face that it pained him to say such a thing about his best friend and his enemy, and for the second time that day, Hermione felt a rush of affection for Neville.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, one she realised was too tight when he began spluttering. She loosened her grip, but didn't let go.

It surprised her how much those simple words changed her mood. It was one person that was on her side. One person that was trying to understand. One person that would stand by her.

"Thanks, Neville. Though I still haven't decided what I'm doing, it means a lot to know you'll stick by me."

He shrugged, trying to act casual, though she could see emotion written on his face. "Where is would I be if it's not with you?" he asked rhetorically.

Hermione grinned, before her eyes widened comically. "Oh crap. We're gonna be late for our classes!"

Neville's expression immediately matched her own, and they said a quick 'goodbye' before racing in opposite directions to their respective classes.

Hermione reached her Ancient Runes classroom breathless and panting, she opened the door and apologised profusely to the Professor who looked as though she were annoyed, but far too involved to take time out to berate her. Hermione was thankful for that, as she slipped into her seat at her empty table and began to pull her things out of her bag.

It was just as retrieved her ink and sat it in front of her, that she caught the eye of Wayne Hopkins from across the room. The teen looked away just as quickly and Hermione couldn't help but scoff as she turned back to the front of the classroom.

Hermione had not spoken to Hopkins since the events at the Halloween dance, and in all honesty, she hadn't thought much on the subject. She'd been sitting alone in Ancient Runes for the last few weeks, and had only exchanged a few glances with him on occasion. She supposed he felt a little awkward about the fact that he'd been paid to hang out with her.

That thought only brought her onto another topic; Blaise. She hadn't really thought much about his involvement in that whole incident, nor had they really talked about it since, but that also might have something to do with the fact that she'd barely spoken to Zabini at all lately.

She knew that Malfoy was no longer ignoring her, considering the gifts he sent her at Christmas, but she wasn't sure about Blaise. He hadn't contacted her or spoken to her in weeks; she had seen him in the corridors today, but he hadn't seemed to notice her.

She decided in that moment, that she would find him later tonight, maybe after dinner and her talk with Ginny, and demand to know what his problem was. Yes, that's what she'd do. With a newfound determination, she turned her attention back to the Professor and tried not to wriggle in her seat at the thought of all the drama that would most likely happen tonight.

* * *

><p>Hermione slowly scooped a pile of mashed potato onto her fork, and brought it to her mouth. On the other side of the table, she could see Ginny glaring at her from over her empty plate. Yes, Hermione was trying to prolong the process of eating dinner, and in turn, the conversation she knew she would have to have with Ginny.<p>

Just as she slowly scooped another fork-full of food, she noticed across the room, a blonde flash of hair. Draco was standing from his place at the Slytherin table, and with a quick glance in her direction, he strode out of the Great Hall.

Ginny noticed the direction of her gaze and immediately turned back toward her.

"Ok, that's it, I know you're trying to put of this conversation by eating like a mouse, but I'm not going to be deterred Hermione." She gave Hermione a determined look, with only made the latter groan.

"Why do I have to tell you? Isn't this between me and him?" She said, motioning to the door where Draco had exited just moments before.

Ginny sighed, relaxing her expression for the first time that night. "Look, I know you're worried about telling me things, especially because I used to like that idiot, but in all honesty, I don't want you to do something stupid. As a girl with relationship experience, I think it best to talk to me. The only other person is Neville, and I don't think he knows much about _that_. No offence, Neville." She added quickly to the boy who was seated on Hermione's left.

Neville merely nodded in understanding. He'd learnt earlier that day not to get between girls when they were gossiping, or determined, or angry, or...well, he'd just learnt not to get in a girls way _at all_.

Hermione sighed, playing with the small pile of cold food on her plate. She knew Ginny had a point, but she knew the girl would tell her things she didn't want to hear. She also knew she couldn't put the conversation off forever. Hermione sat down her fork and looked up at the red-head.

"Fine. We'll talk now," Hermione said, no longer seeing the point in arguing. Ginny perked up and practically bounced off her chair as she stood.

Hermione glanced at Neville, who was offering her a reassuring, but mostly sympathetic smile, as Ginny grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the hall.

After half an hour of explaining to Ginny, all of the events that led up to that point, only skimming on a few details, Hermione was now squirming under the red-heads thoughtful gaze. The red-head had listened attentively, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the right times, and Hermione actually felt as though a weight had been lifted off of her chest.

"So he did all that, did he?" Ginny asked, leaning back in her chair in front of the common room fireplace. They had retreated there to talk, and one pointed glance from Ginny was enough to scare away the second years who were previously gathered there doing their homework. It seemed that Ginny had quite the fierce reputation. Hermione wasn't surprised.

"Yeah, but why did you need to know all that? It's not important."

The younger girl looked scandalized. "Not important?" She cried, "Of course it's important. I need to know his tactics before I can work against him."

Hermione stared for a moment, before she realised exactly what Ginny had said. "Wait! Work against him? What are you talking about?"

Ginny picked at her fingernail. "Well, obviously this is some horrible plan to make a fool out of you. I have to admit it's incredibly elaborate and well thought out, but you just wait, Hermione, he won't get away with it."

Hermione felt slightly nervous at the scheming expression on Ginny's face. She reminded herself never to get on the girls bad side.

"Uh, are you sure you've got the right idea?" Hermione asked hesitantly, not wanting Ginny's wrath to be turned in her direction again.

Ginny's eyes flickered back to Hermione, as though she only just realised the other girl was still there. "Of course. Draco Malfoy is a heartless, soulless excuse for a human being."

Hermione sighed, looking down at her hands. "I really don't think he's that bad, Ginny."

The younger girl, once again, looked scandalized, before her face settled into a shocked expression. "You like him." She said, bluntly.

Hermione face flushed, not only from the accusation, but also Ginny's unnerving stare. "I thought that was obvious from what I explained earlier?"

"It was not obvious. From what you told me, it sounded extremely one-sided!" Ginny looked troubled at the shocking revelation that it wasn't, in fact, one sided.

Hermione gaped for a moment, trying to argue back, until she realised that Ginny was right. Everything with Draco was _extremely_ one-sided. From his side only.

She claimed she liked him, but had she ever shown it? Not really. Had she ever gone out of her way to talk to him? Nope. It was in that moment that Hermione realised that Draco had been rather determined with her.

She'd never outwardly shown that she enjoyed having him around, but it didn't discourage him. They hadn't spoke for two months, but he still gave her a gift on Christmas, and still claimed to feel just as strongly as he did two months ago.

It was in that moment, that Hermione couldn't blame him for almost giving up on her. She'd always felt like he deserved a hard time, after everything he'd done to her in the past, but now it seemed like she was just purposely making it difficult for him.

"Hello? Hermione? _Hermione!"_ She snapped out of her daydream, to find Ginny staring at her with an annoyed expression.

"Sorry," Hermione muttered. Ginny sighed.

"I don't trust him, Hermione, and the fact that you already like him has me worried." Hermione couldn't miss the look of genuine concern on the younger girls face as she said this, and Hermione felt bad for ever doubting Ginny's intentions.

"I know, I know. But I really don't think it's some diabolical scheme. I think he's changed a bit, or at least he's being better behaved then he was." Hermione suggested, hopefully.

Ginny didn't look convinced. "I don't think he's changed at all. He may not be horrible to you, but he still is to others. He's got an odd obsession with you. I think that's why he used to bully you all the time. Now his mode of feeding his obsession has changed. I wouldn't necessarily say it's a good thing. Remember what I told you, the first time we spoke?"

Hermione thought back to the first time her and Ginny had spoken. It was in the common room, close to where they were seated right now. She remembered exactly what Ginny had said.

"'Sometimes it's better to have him hate you'," Hermione quoted. Ginny nodded.

"I still firmly believe that. By opening yourself up to him like this, you're only inviting him to hurt you in other ways. Ways that are far more painful than a hex." The red-head said wisely.

Hermione stared at Ginny for a moment, unsure of what to say. She knew Draco had hurt Ginny, and he had hurt Hermione physically in the past, but she couldn't help but think that his actions lately had shown that he wasn't just playing with her.

Hermione trusted him, and that's all that seemed important right now.

"I know, Ginny. I know you're just looking out for me-,"

"It's not just that," the red-head interrupted, Hermione blinked, "Of course I don't want you to get hurt. That's the main thing. But I also don't think he deserves you. If he really wants you, then he doesn't deserve you, because someone like him doesn't deserve to be happy."

Hermione was surprised that Ginny would hold such a grudge, and realised that Draco must ahve really hurt her.

"Ginny-,"

"No, listen." The younger girl ordered firmly, "In all honesty, I don't doubt he likes you. I've witnessed how determined he is when it comes to you, but the fact that he was able to treat you so horribly for years should tell you enough about him. He has the ability to hurt you without feeling guilt, and I think that alone should be enough for you to figure out what you should do."

Hermione looked back down at her hands, knowing exactly what was coming. "And what should I do?" She asked quietly.

"You should give him back that necklace, and tell him you want nothing to do with him." The red-head said without hesitation.

Hermione sighed, rubbing her forehead. "That's what I should do." She said. It wasn't a question, just a mere statement.

"It is." Ginny agreed. "Are you going to tell him that?"

Would she do that? She didn't know. All she did know was that she needed space to think. Space to get her thoughts together.

Hermione didn't answer Ginny, but after a moment she stood from her seat and left through the portrait hole without a word, leaving Ginny gaping behind her completely and utterly confused.

Hermione walked the corridor toward the staircase and began descending it. The one thing she hated about discussing her emotions with other people was that she was so easily swayed. Hermione knew what she wanted, but she didn't know what to do about it, and her indecision left her open to other people's opinions on the matter.

She did appreciate Ginny's advice, so much so that she found herself slightly persuaded by it. But in the end, the decision was in her hands, and Hermione felt like right now she didn't know what that decision was.

She found herself outside the library doors. The library would give her a peaceful place to think for a while. She found herself unconsciously pulling the seashell necklace from her pocket and placing it to her ear.

She closed her eyes and allowed the ethereal melody to relax her, escaping into thoughtlessness. She was certain she had only been standing there for five minutes, when she heard footsteps approaching the library. She tried to ignore them hoping it was just some first of second years, but when the footsteps stopped right next her, she cracked open an eye and found herself face to face with Luna and Blaise.

"Hello Hermione," Luna said brightly, a dreamy smile adorning her face. Blaise didn't greet her, but looked far too distracted by the shiny piece of silver in her hand.

"Hi, Luna," Hermione greeted back, while attempting to stuff the necklace back into her pocket before Blaise asked questions.

"I see you're enjoying Malfoy's gift," he said, nodding toward her pocket. Hermione inwardly cursed. Of course he would know about the gift, he and Draco were best mates. Almost as if sensing her thoughts, he spoke.

"I was there when he got it. It's hand crafted. One of a kind." He stuffed his free hand in his pocket, the other was by his side being held by Luna.

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling awkward that Draco would go to such trouble, she decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. "So I suppose you were there with the carolling incident, too?"

He cracked a grin, and that was answer enough for Hermione. "Luna, too." He said, motioning toward the blonde at his side.

Luna sighed, which only made his grin widen. "I did try to stop them, once I realised that they told the house-elves to sing a completely different song than I suggested," the Ravenclaw explained.

Hermione nodded, finding it rather shocking, but quite nice that Draco had allowed Luna to hang around he and Blaise during the holidays. "It's fine, Luna. It was quite funny, looking back at it now."

There was a moment of silence, before Blaise spoke. "So," he began, "are you going in there to finally tell Malfoy you love him?"

Hermione looked from the library doors to Blaise, ignoring his goading question, "Draco's in there?"

Blaise nodded once. Suddenly, the library didn't seem like the best place to go for peace.

"So, are you?" The Italian prodded, with a small smile on his face, "It's obvious you feel something, otherwise you would've sent that gift back."

Hermione sighed, feeling the weight of the necklace in her pocket. "I was actually planning on giving it back. It feels unfair to take it when I haven't made up my mind."

Hermione looked up to find the smile on Blaise's face was no longer there; in fact his expression was, if Hermione had to describe it, rather cold. She could not recall a time when Blaise had looked at her in such a way.

"You're giving it back?" he asked in a toneless voice.

"Well, yes-,"

"Why?" he asked, barely waiting for her to finish her sentence. Hermione shot him a wary look. Had he stopped speaking to her for two months because he disliked her? It certainly seemed like it.

"I just told you, it seems unfair to keep it when I haven't-,"

"No." He interrupted. Hermione could hear the anger in his voice. "You know what's unfair? The fact that you've had weeks, months really, to figure out what you want and you still don't know."

Hermione stepped back at his harshness, feeling as though she were slapped across the face. She looked to Luna and found she was watching Blaise with a gentle expression, though Hermione could see she had placed her other hand on his arm in a calming gesture.

Hermione was thoroughly confused. Why was he so mad at her?

"We gave you two months, Hermione." He continued hotly, "We gave you space for two months, even _I_ did, to let you figure out whether you wanted either of us in your life. Two fucking months. It was easy for me, I'm not the one who loves you. It was hell for Draco, and as his mate, I was the one that saw him that way. The one that had to pick up the pieces. You didn't even fucking try, you didn't even notice him. You haven't tried at all; it's always _him_ chasing _you_. That's the only unfair thing in this situation."

Hermione stood with wide eyes. She knew that's exactly how she had been, and she knew, deep down, that she probably needed someone to say all this to her. She never would have guessed that it would be Blaise. She'd never seen him so passionate. "Blaise-,"

"No. You need to hear this." He cut in, his voice firm, "You need to stop treating him as the bad guy who needs to earn a place in your life, because it's pretty obvious that you stopped viewing him in that way long ago. He was miserable for those two months, hoping you'd approach him and say something, even if it was to tell him to never speak to you again! And then he sends you a gift at Christmas; in all honesty, I expected you to send it back, but you didn't. It cheered him right up, gave him hope that you might give him a chance. But here you are now, about to go throw it in his fucking face, _again_."

"I only wanted more time. I need-,"

"No you don't. You've had enough time. _Two months_ worth of time. I think you know what your decision is, you just don't want to have to make it. That's fair enough. But the fact is, if Draco can get over things and make a decision in his circumstance, you can too. He's tried the hardest to be good enough for you! How's that for irony? He actually snuck out to a muggle party and got hexed for it! Stop wasting his time, and messing with him. Go in there and tell him you either want to be with him, or you don't. There's no 'maybe' anymore, Hermione. Maybe isn't an option."

Hermione stood staring wide-eyed at Blaise who's chest was rapidly rising and falling from his previous speech. "His father hexed him?" Hermione asked, putting two and two together.

Blaise seemed to realise he'd said too much, because he shook his head. "Never mind about that. It's not as important to him as you are."

Blaise was obviously very worried about Draco, and Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly guilty at her part in it all.

She had seen how unhealthy Draco had looked in those two months and the fact that it was caused by her, was even worse. She hadn't thought herself capable of affecting him that much, and now that she knew that a few words from her would have helped him a bit, she couldn't help but feel awful.

But then again, it wasn't _completely_ her fault. They were the ones who had given her space without actually telling her they were giving her space. So in a way, everybody was to blame. And now, Hermione knew she couldn't just walk in there and tell Draco she needed more time. That was no longer an option. She needed to give him an answer.

"Hermione!" a breathless female voice called from the other end of the corridor. The group turned to find Ginny racing down the hallway towards them. "I've been looking for you everywhere! Figures that the smart thing to do would be to check the library."

The red head stopped next to Hermione and it seemed only then that she noticed the other two. "Hi, Luna," she greeted the blonde happily, before turning to Blaise. Hermione noticed Ginny's eyes narrowed at the Italian.

"_You_." She all but growled at Blaise, "What are _you_ doing here? Trying to convince Hermione to get with your friend?"

Blaise merely raised his eyebrows at Ginny, as though she were a speck of dust on the floor. "And I suppose you're trying to convince her she shouldn't?"

Ginny crossed her arms, and stuck out her chin. "Obviously. You Slytherins are nothing but trouble."

Blaise chuckled mirthlessly. "Funny. That's not what you were saying a few weeks ago."

Ginny's eyes narrowed menacingly. "I learnt my lesson. You're lucky Hermione's forgiving enough to speak to you, she told me about the Hopkins incident. That really was a classless act."

Blaise glanced at Hermione, before turning back to Ginny. "I had a reason for doing that. I was just trying to make Draco get his act together. It worked didn't it? Sorry 'bout that, Hermione." He added quickly, looking back at her.

"It's fine," she insisted, but it fell on deaf ears, as both Blaise and Ginny went back to arguing. Luna stood by watching with a wary expression on her face, as though she expected wand's to be drawn at any moment.

"Who said it was a good thing?" Ginny countered hotly, "Draco's a git. Hermione deserves better. If you hadn't encouraged him to stalk her for so long she'd have probably found someone better!"

Blaise scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I find this _hilarious_ coming from you. _You_ didn't even talk to her before Malfoy started paying her attention!"

Ginny looked taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Because I knew she needed support. And for your information, I happen to like Hermione! At least_ I_ wasn't using her to help Draco get close!"

"I wasn't using her! She can make her own decisions! She doesn't need you whispering in her ear, telling her what to do!"

By this point, the argument between Blaise and Ginny was rather loud, and echoing off the stone in the corridor. Hermione was glad at that moment that the library was almost always deserted, otherwise it could have been a lot worse, especially since neither was bothering to keep their voices down.

"Hermione!" Ginny yelled, turning toward her, obviously forgetting that it wasn't her she was angry at, "Go in there and tell him to shove his necklace up his-,"

"Shut up, Weasley!" Blaise interrupted, the anger clearly written on his face, "She'll make up her own mind. Stop being bitter!"

This was clearly the wrong thing to say to Ginny, because in the space of two seconds, she had her wand out and pointed straight at Blaise's face. Luna looked shocked, and was trying to pull Blaise away from the argument, but he was having none of it. He merely grinned smugly.

"Did I hit a nerve?" he questioned Ginny, still grinning. Ginny's face flushed red, whether it was from anger or embarrassment, Hermione didn't know. All she knew was that the arguing was really getting on her nerves.

"Listen here, you stupid git," the red head hissed, "I've had enough of you, and the stupid Silver Marauders, including my stupid brother and Harry, walking around like you own the place! Did you and Draco inform Hermione of that time you dunked me in the prefect's bathroom?"

Blaise's grin faltered, and Hermione stared at him in shock. She knew it wasn't a lie, she had experienced a similar torture firsthand. "Did you really do that?" Hermione asked, "When?"

Ginny answered for him, barely keeping the satisfaction out of her voice "It wasn't that long ago, was it, Zabini?"

Blaise ignored Ginny and turned to Hermione, a pleading look on his face. "It was ages ago, Hermione, it was my idea anyway. I made him do it."

Hermione didn't believe that, she knew Blaise had never actively participated in that sort of thing. He had always just stood by. Blaise seemed to realise that Hermione didn't believe him, so he continued trying to convince her.

"Has he done anything like that to you, lately?" Hermione shook her head slowly. "Exactly. He only did it because Ginny deserved it-,"

"Excuse me!" the red head interrupted angrily, "You dunked me because I told Hermione to date Hopkins!"

"Exactly, you deserved it," Blaise countered with a shrug.

"You Slytherins are all as evil as each other!" Ginny screeched, looking as though she were about to rip her own hair out in anger.

"Shut up." Hermione said quietly, but authoritatively, "Both of you, just shut up."

She rubbed her temples soothingly as Blaise and Ginny both turned to her, looking as though they only just noticed her there. Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but Hermione held up her hand to silence her.

"I'm serious, Ginny. I appreciate both of you trying to help me, but it's my decision."

The three teens in front of her gaped for a moment, before Luna broke out into a dazzling smile.

"I agree with Hermione," She said, looking at Blaise and Luna, "It's up to her."

Blaise faltered, looking as though he really just wanted to convince Hermione a little more. Ginny was wearing a similar expression. Luna, however, seemed as though she couldn't care less what Hermione decided, just as long as it was her decision.

"Just follow your heart, Hermione." The blonde told her.

Hermione had to admit that it was probably the most cliché advice she'd ever been given, but at that moment it was really the only thing she could do. She nodded, thankful that Luna was there to mediate.

"Come on," the Ravenclaw said after a moment, "we need to leave Hermione in peace. She has a big decision to make."

She grabbed both Blaise and Ginny and began pulling them along by their arms down the corridor. Both teens looked like they were in shock at the fact that they were being disciplined by Luna of all people. Hermione was certain she saw a sparkle in Blaise's eye as he looked down at the blonde, and knew he was likely falling for her even more.

Hermione smirked, imagining what a disaster it would have been if he'd ended up with Ginny. They clashed like cats and dogs.

As the three of them disappeared around the corner, Hermione leant back again the stone and let out a breath. She really didn't think she'd be in this situation when she woke up that morning. Now she knew she had to go and tell Draco _something_. No more maybes or indecision, only yes or no.

She reached into her robe pocket and pulled out the silver necklace, holding it to her ear once more. A second later she found herself pushing open the doors to the library and walking inside.

She searched around for a flash of blond hair, and found it. Draco was sitting at a table in the spot her and Blaise had once studied together. He was calmly reading a book, with one hand holding the page open, the other was at his mouth.

Hermione noticed he was biting his thumb between his teeth. His face was expressionless, except for a small crease between his eyebrows. Hermione had seen this expression on him a lot when she watched him in class sometimes; he was concentrating hard.

She almost didn't want to interrupt him, but knew it had to be done. She took another deep breath to calm herself, before stepping out from behind the shelf and standing awkwardly in front of him.

For a moment she thought he hadn't noticed her move in front of him, but after a second his eyes lifted from the page and trailed from her legs all the way up to her face. His expression softened with recognition as he took her in, and Hermione couldn't help but feel the same. It had been too long since she'd seem him this close.

His eyes moved back down her body and fell on her hand, where the silver chain of the necklace was hanging down between her fingers.

His expression suddenly hardened again, and he turned back to his back, leaving Hermione to watch on with confusion.

"Draco?" She prodded, trying to get his attention again. He was silent for a moment, before sighing.

"I don't want it." He muttered.

Hermione furrowed her brows. "What?"

He looked up at her, before nodding toward her hand. "The necklace. I don't want it back."

They locked eyes for a moment, and it was then that Hermione realised that he thought she was here to return the necklace and reject him. Funnily enough, that had been her intention initially. _Had_ been.

She had silently weighed up her options. Draco was a git. He was unpleasant at times, arrogant, cocky, and just plain evil. When she thought of those things, the logical choice was to tell him she didn't want to be with him.

Then there was the other side. The part of Draco that obviously cared about her, the part that made her insides do funny little flips at the thought of him. The part that made her miss him when he wasn't there, the part that made her enjoy his company. That part told her to say yes.

The annoying thing was, those parts were one in the same. And Hermione had realised that Draco wouldn't be Draco if he wasn't all those things combined. Those things together were the reason she enjoyed his company so much. They were the reason she liked him. They _were_ him.

"I know what you're here to say." He said miserably, interrupting her thoughts, "You don't have to say it. I get it."

Hermione crossed her arms, trying to fight the smile that wanted to appear on her face. "What exactly do you get?"

He looked down at the book in front of him before speaking. "That I'm an ass. Too arrogant, too horrible and that you'd have to be clinically insane to want to be with me."

Hermione nodded slowly. "That's true."

His head snapped up to glare at her. "You could at least be decent and disagree for the sake of my ego!"

Hermione almost laughed at his expression, but the feeling left her when she noticed his hand begin to shake on the book, as though it were seizing up. He followed her gaze and when he saw what she was looking at her moved his hand under the table.

"What was that?" She asked warily, all the previous humour gone from her voice. Draco scowled at nothing in particular.

"Nothing," he said shortly.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, before taking the seat across from him. She knew where her mind was leading her, but Lucius Malfoy wouldn't do that, would he?

She realised, with stinging clarity, that he probably would.

"Blaise told me your father hexed you...because you went to a muggle party. Is that true?"

He looked up at her, and Hermione wondered if he was annoyed that Blaise had accidently spilled that information. Draco, however, merely sighed before looking back down at his hands, which were now interlocked in front of him.

"Yea," he answered shortly, "my muscles have been a bit off since."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Your muscles? But that's only a lasting symptom of the-,"

"Yea I know." He said quickly, looking back down at his hands. It was then Hermione realised exactly what he was saying. She stood abruptly, knocking her chair over backwards.

"He can't do that!" She cried, outraged, "That's illegal!"

Draco sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Thanks for telling the whole library."

Hermione blushed, feeling slightly foolish at her outburst. She picked up her chair and sat back down at the table. "Sorry." She muttered. "But-he-it- sorry..."

Draco smirked. "It's fine. You can't help that you're in love with me and are concerned for my safety."

Hermione sputtered indignantly for a moment, feeling a heavy blush cover her cheeks. That merely made Draco grin.

"I need to talk to you about that," she said after she'd managed to compose herself. Draco's grin fell and he groaned into his hands.

"Don't say it. Don't ruin the mood. Even if you do tell me to sod off, it's not going to work. If you think that'll stop me from cornering you and snogging you senseless, then you're mistaken, Granger."

Hermione raised a brow. "Why do you think that's what I'm going to say?" She said, pulling the necklace from her hand and slipping it around her neck.

"Becau-," he stopped abruptly, noticing what she was doing. He stared wide eyed, as she fixed her hair to cover the chain, and adjusted the pendent on her chest.

"You're not giving it back," he stated. She let out a quick laugh.

"Good observation."

"So that means..."

"That means that if you do anything to annoy me, I get to hex you, no arguments. If you flirt with another girl, I'm allowed to get annoyed and I get to hex you, no arguments. That means you have to be nice to me all the time, and if you aren't, I get to hex you, again, no arguments. And you have to be nice to Neville, Ginny and Luna, and if you aren't I get to hex you, and you guessed it, no arguments."

By the time she was finished, Draco was wearing the widest grin she'd ever seen, she thought his face might break. "You're saying yes to me?"

"Against my better judgement, yes."

Draco stood abruptly and moved to her side of the table, kneeling down next to her.

"What about telling people? You said that was important. You didn't want to be a secret."

Hermione honestly hadn't thought about that much, but right now it wasn't as important as it had been. "I guess we'll deal with that at some point..."

Draco nodded, "I think I have a way to handle that, at least for now."

Hermione was slightly wary at his idea, but didn't get to question it further as Draco began pulling her by the arm further and further into the shelves.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked.

"To snog, of course," he said simply. Hermione's head whipped around to glare at him.

"What? Right now?" She certainly hadn't expected _this_.

He stopped in a maze of dark shelves and turned to her. "Two months, Granger, give me a break."

She went to retort but forgot exactly what she was going to say when he pulled her against him and backed her against a shelf. He began placing chaste kisses all over her face, which had them both grinning, before he moved to her neck and began moving his lips up and down.

"That tickles," she breathed, shivering as his lips hit a particularly sensitive spot. She felt him grin against her neck, before his lips moved to her own.

He trapped her in a searing kiss that made her stomach flip and a warmth build between her thighs. His warm tongue massaged her own, and his hands ran down her sides before they cupped her bottom and hitched her up so her legs wrapped around his waist.

She could feel his hardness against her centre, and when she moved against him he groaned, before breaking the kiss and leaning his head on her shoulder.

"We should stop before we do something you regret," he said in a voice just above a whisper. It sounded as though it pained him to suggest it.

Hermione wanted to tell him that she probably wouldn't regret it, but agreed anyway. The library was the last place she wanted to do anything like that. He let her down, and they began a more gentler kiss, one that wouldn't lead too such compromising positions.

"The library closes soon," she managed to say as he moved his attention back to her neck. He merely grunted obviously far too distracted, causing Hermione to chuckle.

"I'm serious, we'll get locked in," she argued, between gasps. He sighed, before stepping back, his eyes were visibly glazed over.

"Alright. I'll let you off this time, but you have to meet me here every day for private time," she almost laughed at the way he wiggled his eyebrows seductively.

"I'll try," she said teasingly, crossing her arms and taking pleasure in the scandalized expression on his face.

"You should try hard then, you're mine now. Mine completely."

He pulled her into another searing kiss that left Hermione legs shaking, and she couldn't help but think that maybe being with Draco Malfoy wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

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><p><strong>AN: Please dont kill me. I know a lot of you probably wont like that she agreed to be with him in secret, but please wait til the next chapter before you freak out. I dont want the whole thing to come out just yet, but it's not going to be completely secret. You'll see. I feel like while Draco's changed a lot, he's still not at that point where he's ready to yell it from the rooftops. He still has a few more lessons to learn before then.  
><strong>

**Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this. let me know what you thought. :)  
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**Cheers, Leni  
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	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter 16**_

_...in which a secret is revealed._**  
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Blaise loved sleep. He loved falling into bed after a long day of school work, homework and snogging Luna, and falling into dreams about...well, snogging Luna. That's exactly why on that Tuesday morning, when the sound of unnaturally happy whistling woke him from a particularly pleasant dream, he wanted to pummel whoever was the source of such an annoying noise.

Blaise cracked an eye open, and immediately regretted it as the light within the room blinded him. He rolled over onto his stomach with a groan, and buried his face in his pillow, attempting to fall back into the dream in which Luna was wearing nothing much at all.

That was until the annoying tune of whistling stopped, and a low chuckle filled the room instead.

"You really aren't a morning person, are you, Zabini?"

Blaise's head shot up from his pillow and whipped around to the source of the familiar voice, which was clearly laced with amusement.

Draco sat against the headboard of his bed, fully dressed in his clothes for that day, reading the latest issue of 'Quidditch Weekly'. Blaise wondered at what time Draco had woken, since he looked abnormally bright and energetic. He glared at the teen.

"So it was _you_ that was whistling like an annoying bird," Blaise grumbled, reluctantly sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"The one and only," Draco retorted with a smirk.

Blaise scowled. He really did not like this enthusiastic Draco who had woken him in the morning by whistling a happy tune. Usually Draco was about as enthusiastic as Blaise was upon waking up in the morning.

Blaise glanced around the room and found that Potter, Weasley, and even Goyle, were still snoring away merrily in their beds, undisturbed. It was just Blaise's luck that he had to get the bed closest to Draco.

"What's got you so happy anyway? I thought since Hermione rejected you, you'd be moping about, sobbing into your pillow?" Blaise asked tiredly, as he headed toward the bathroom. He decided sleep was not going to come to him again, especially with Draco's chirpy mood.

"Who says she rejected me?" Draco retorted happily. Blaise froze and turned on the spot, eyeing the blond who was flicking idly through the pages of his magazine with a small smile on his face.

"Bullshit," the Italian muttered quietly in disbelief. There was no way Hermione would accept him, only yesterday she was telling him she planned on rejecting Draco.

Draco tossed the magazine to the end of his bed and stood stretching his arms above his head. Blaise didn't miss the huge grin on his face, either. "No bullshit, mate. She said yes, and we had a victorious snog in the back of the library just to seal the deal."

Blaise stood gaping for a moment, unable to believe what he'd just heard. Eventually he broke out into a grin, and moved toward Draco trapping him in a head lock and mussing his hair, much to Draco's loud protests.

"Oi! Get off-,"

"Congrats, mate. I didn't think you had it in you." He released Draco who now looked as though he'd been caught in a rather strong gale. The blond scowled at him, attempting to flatten his hair.

"Cheers for that, Zabini," Draco spat sarcastically, "it took me ten minutes to do that."

Blaise snorted. "Trying to doll yourself up for, Granger? Don't worry, mate, if she accepted you, it's a guarantee that she must be partially blind. She might not notice."

Blaise was met by an elbow in his side, with had him keeling over in pain as Draco raced past him toward the bathroom. When Blaise managed to stand, he raced after his friend, only to have the bathroom door slammed in his face.

"Oi, you git, I need a shower!" Blaise cried, banging on the door.

"Too bad, you can wait 'til I fix my hair!" The muffled voice of Draco called from behind the door.

Blaise smirked at Draco's vanity, as he crossed his arms and leant against the doorjamb, waiting for his friend to finish preening himself.

He was still rather shocked at the revelation that Hermione had actually agreed to date Draco. He had thought, considering what she'd said yesterday, that she was going to return the necklace and tell Draco, as Ginny had suggested, to shove it. He couldn't help but be happy for his friend, though that thought also brought him back to the way in which he'd berated Hermione. It had been slightly harsh on his part, but he'd merely lost patience with everything.

He had been working since the beginning to get them to admit their feelings, since before either of them even _knew_ their feelings. He had spent weeks trying to get Draco's act together, and was happy when he finally had that Christmas. He had expected things to go rather smoothly, and he had to admit that when Hermione had initially told him she was planning on returning the necklace, it was months of pent up frustration at both of them just bursting at the seams.

He knew he owed Hermione an apology for yelling at her, but he didn't regret it. He knew that if he hadn't given Hermione a push in the right direction than she might've followed Ginny's advice. He knew that she would've regretted it, despite how much she would deny that.

Still, there was one thing he didn't blame Hermione for being reluctant about, and that was the publicity of their relationship. Blaise knew that was one of the main issues for her; she didn't want to be a secret. It was also for that reason that he expected her to reject Draco.

Perhaps Blaise's slip of the tongue about Lucius Malfoy's cruel tactics had convinced her that a secret relationship was best? He wondered if Draco had spoken to her about that. Perhaps he had even agreed to tell some people. Maybe that was why she had agreed to date him in the first place? He knew that it would have taken a lot to swallow her pride, and past resentments against them, surely she wouldn't have gone so easily on that, too?

The door beside Blaise opened some minutes later, and a much less dishevelled Draco stepped out, muttering, "Git," as he passed.

Blaise went to step into the now unoccupied room, but paused in the doorway turning back towards Draco who had just jumped back on his bed and resumed his perusal of his Quidditch magazine.

"So have you told anyone?" Blaise asked, leaning against the door. Draco looked up, and stared for a moment as though he didn't hear the question. After a moment he looked away and shook his head.

"I don't know who she's told, but that's actually what I wanted you're help with."

Blaise furrowed his brow, wondering what exactly he could help with. With a nod, he turned and closed the door to the bathroom before stepping into the shower in an attempt to wake himself up.

He couldn't help but be curious about Draco's behaviour. He hadn't expected him to tell anyone about his relationship with Hermione; in fact, if they did tell anyone, it would come as quite a shock considering their past and the fact they hadn't been publicly seen together without hexing the each other.

Ginny, Luna and Blaise were the only ones who really knew there was something going on (Blaise wasn't sure if Hermione had told Neville, though perhaps she would or already had). To be honest, Blaise didn't trust Ginny with the secret, but he knew she most likely wouldn't tell anyone, especially since she knew how vengeful Draco could be, and also, surprisingly, she seemed protective of Hermione. If anything, she would most likely try to sabotage the relationship in secret. Blaise would ensure he kept an eye out for that.

Blaise showered, dressed and returned to his dorm to find Potter and Weasley had woken, and were sitting tiredly on their beds.

"'Bout time, Zabini. You were in there for 15 minutes," muttered Potter tiredly. He stood from his bed and headed toward the bathroom. Weasley noticed Potter's movements and shot out of bed racing toward the bathroom door. A small scuffle ensued between the two, in which Weasley eventually won; slamming the door in Potter's face, much to the latter's annoyance.

Blaise smirked before falling onto his bed, and leaning against the head board. "So what do you need help with?" he asked Draco across the room, ensuring he didn't mention anything incriminating, since Potter was still standing outside the bathroom door not far away.

Draco glanced over at Potter and then the still snoring form of Goyle in his bed before leaning forward slightly. "I'm gonna tell them," he whispered, motioning toward the bathroom.

Blaise stared in disbelief, for a moment, "About you and...?"

Draco nodded. Blaise considered that he may have lost it. Telling Potter and Weasley, two of the biggest gits around, about he and Hermione would be stupid, wouldn't it?

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Blaise asked warily. Draco shrugged.

"It'd make things easier for us, and besides, it's a start on the 'no secret' thing. Surely no one would react worse than those two, right?" Draco asked, his voice full of hope.

"Your father?" Blaise suggested, hating to bring up the elder Malfoy, but knowing it had to be dealt with.

Draco's face immediately turned stony, and he looked away. "He won't know for a while. I'm determined about that. Even if I only get a short time with her, I'm going to enjoy it. As soon as he knows, I know it's over. He'd kill both of us, probably."

Blaise felt a chill run through his spine, because he knew that was most likely the truth. "You'll get some time with her, and who knows, maybe some miracle will happen and you can run off together?"

Draco looked over at Blaise, a small smirk on his face. Blaise didn't miss the spark of hope that had returned. "You're far too optimistic, Zabini, they should have put you in Hufflepuff."

Blaise rolled his eyes, before looking over at the bathroom door that Potter was beating with his fist, yelling all sort of curses at Weasley. Blaise smirked, knowing how long it took Potter to get his hair somewhat decent, at this rate he wouldn't even have time to run a comb through it after his shower.

"Yeah, alright," Blaise agreed to Draco's earlier idea, "we'll tell 'em. Not sure she'll like them knowing, though."

Draco shrugged, a small smile playing on his face, "This is what she wanted. So she'll have no one to blame but herself."

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Blaise, Draco, Potter and Weasley sat on their respective beds in the dorm. After being told to hang back by Draco, they had waited impatiently for Goyle to leave for breakfast, before they could talk privately. Weasley was now complaining that his stomach was going to eat itself, though Potter seemed to be making use of the extra time to fix his hair with his fingers.<p>

"Look, hurry up and get on with it," Weasley complained, "All the bacon will be gone, soon.

Draco and Blaise shared one last wary glance, before turning to face the other two boys.

"Alright," Draco began, with uncharacteristic nerves in his voice, "I'm gonna tell you something. It's important you don't tell anyone, otherwise I'll hex your bollocks off."

Potter and Weasley shared a look of curiosity before leaning forward in anticipation. Draco took a deep breath, before opening his mouth to speak, only to close it a moment later. Blaise sighed.

"Just spit it out, mate." He prodded the blond.

Draco took another deep breath, before mumbling. "I'm dating Granger."

Potter and Weasley leaned forward, straining their ears to hear, before both of their mouths fell open and their eyes widened comically. "Did you just say Granger? As in _Hermione_ Granger? Frills? Luscious breasts-,"

"Oi!" Draco stood abruptly, fuming at the two, but they merely exchanged another shocked glance with each other, and after a long moment of silence, they both broke out into hysterical guffaws.

Draco sat back down limply, on the end of his bed, looking slightly put out. In all honesty, they hadn't expected this. Though it was the reaction Blaise got when he'd informed them all about him and Luna, he knew Draco wasn't predicting the same reaction.

"You...and Granger...good one...as if!" Weasley managed to say in gasps between his laughter.

Draco scowled at the pair, but they were bent double in hysterics, tears of mirth rolling from their eyes, and didn't seem to notice the angry, and in Blaise's case, rather amused expressions on the other two boys' faces.

After a moment, their hysterics wound down, and only a few chuckles escaped before they sighed wiping their eyes.

"That was a good one, mate. You almost had us there." Potter snickered, a large grin still on his face.

Draco scowled at the pair. "I wasn't joking, you twats."

Both Potter and Weasley looked over at Draco impatiently, "Oh come on, it's not funny anymore. Why would Granger date _you_?"

"Well, she-," Draco began, before pausing to sputter indignantly, "What do you mean, 'why would she want to date you'? Shouldn't you be asking why _I'd_ date _her_? I'm Draco Malfoy, for Merlins sake!"

Potter raised an eyebrow, as though he didn't understand the importance of 'being Draco Malfoy'. "Granger's fit, mate." He said, simply. Weasley nodded vigorously in agreement.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the two. Blaise was certain he was holding himself back on the 'fit' comment, when he really looked as though he wanted to hex them both for it. "What's your point?"

"Well," Potter began wisely, "She's a looker, and she hasn't realised it yet, but she could really get any guy, such as myself." He grinned wolfishly, "Why would she go for you? You've been a right ass to her for a long time, mate. Even _I'd_ have more chance with her than you do."

Draco stared at the two as though he was contemplating which way to kill them, before his expression shifted into a smug smirk. "Well, you're mistaken, because Granger is mine. She's in love with me; has been for a while."

Blaise rolled his eyes at Draco's delusional view on things, and also his cockiness. He supposed old habits would die hard, because at the moment Draco looked as though he was having a great time bragging.

Potter and Weasley didn't seem convinced, and were eying Draco rather sceptically.

After a moment, Potter scoffed. "I'll believe that when I see it."

Blaise could almost see the twitch of anger in Draco's eye. He knew there was nothing more powerful than Draco Malfoy's ego, and any assault against it would be regretful. Not because of his anger, but because he would not stop until he was proven correct.

"I'll prove it," Draco proclaimed, "as long as you promise this thing stays between us."

Weasley and Potter nodded in unison. "That's if there even _is_ a 'thing'." Potter retorted, which only seemed to anger Draco more.

"Bloody hell," Blaise groaned, "he and Granger _are_ together. There, proof enough, right?"

Potter seemed to consider this for a moment, before shaking his head. "Nah, sorry. I still don't believe it."

It was that proclamation that found them walking up the shifting staircase ten minutes later, instead of heading straight to breakfast, in order to meet Granger on her way down. Draco had a point to prove.

* * *

><p>Hermione scooped up her book bag and moved it to her shoulder, as she and Neville headed toward the portrait hole on their way down to breakfast that morning. They had spent a few minutes in the common room looking over their homework, before deciding they were too hungry to concentrate any longer.<p>

In all honesty, Hermione was merely trying to keep busy so she and Neville couldn't idly chat about other things. Such as Draco Malfoy.

Hermione was ashamed to admit that she hadn't yet told Neville that she and Draco were 'together'. She put scepticism on the term, because in all honesty, it didn't feel real. She knew she had made the right decision, but the only problem was that she still wasn't sure how to handle the whole thing.

She had kept it to herself since yesterday, knowing Neville might have an aneurism and Ginny might just hex her if they found out. She would tell them eventually, though she was hoping to put it off for a while.

Perhaps Draco's initial idea of secrecy wouldn't be so bad. If her closest friends reacted that way, then she could only imagine how the rest of the school would act, especially Draco's many female fans.

"So, what exactly happened with you and Ginny yesterday?" Neville asked, hesitantly, "She came back to the common room looking pretty angry, and you didn't return for a while after that."

Hermione inwardly groaned. She had been hoping Neville wouldn't ask about that. In all honesty, she had spent much longer than she was willing to admit, snogging Draco in the back of the library. She hadn't even seen Ginny since the incident yesterday, and could only assume the red head was pissed at her big time.

"We just...had a bit of a talk about things. It was good to get it off my chest," Hermione said. It wasn't a lie really. They _did_ talk about things, and she did feel relieved for it. It was just the incident that happened after that she didn't want to admit.

Neville didn't look convinced, but she knew he was far too amicable to pester her about it further, so he merely nodded. Hermione didn't miss the swell of guilt that bubbled in her stomach. She would tell him eventually, just when she was ready to admit, not only to other people, but also herself, that she was dating Draco Malfoy.

They walked in an unusually tense silence to the second floor landing, where out of the corner of her eye, Hermione thought she saw a flash on white, and someone whisper, "Oi, Granger."

She almost tripped mid-step as she realised with a rush of panic that Draco was hiding behind the corner at the end of the corridor leading onto the second floor. She turned to find Neville still plodding down the stairs, completely oblivious to the other boys presence.

Draco motioned for her to come, which dismissed with a scowl and a pointed shake of the head. He looked annoyed, before stepping out slightly, with a devious smirk on his face. Hermione realised that he was coming toward her, and looking pointedly at Neville.

She could only imagine how this would be a horrible way for Neville to find out about them being together, so reluctantly, she turned to the boy and began to make a show of pausing mid-step and gasping.

Neville turned to her with a concerned expression on his face, and Hermione felt another swell of guilt in her stomach.

"What is it?" He asked, watching as she fiddled with the flap of her bag and searched through it messily.

"I've forgotten my Ancient Runes homework," she lied, "I left it on the coffee table in the common room."

Neville nodded slowly. "Would you like me to go back with you?"

"No," Hermione disagreed, a little too fast, "no. You go ahead, you'll miss breakfast otherwise."

He looked apprehensive for a moment, before nodding again. "Alright then. I'll make sure I save you something if you don't make it back in time."

She gave him an appreciative smile, and watched as he continued on down the staircase. Once he was safely out of sight she turned, raced up several steps to the second floor landing, ducked around the corner and all but pinned Draco against the wall. If it weren't from the fuming expression on her face, the act could have been taken the wrong way.

He smirked seductively, taking advantage of the close proximity by sliding his hands around her waist. "Did you miss me that much, love?"

Hermione scowled, trying to ignore the seductive powers of his silky voice and hands. "What the hell are you doing? Walking out like that in the middle of the stairway."

He cocked his head. "Don't tell me you haven't told Longbottom?"

She crossed her arms and stepped away. "Of course I haven't. I thought we agreed not to tell anyone."

His smirk faltered, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. "We agreed on that?" he asked. She didn't miss the slight edge of panic to his voice.

He stood off the wall, shoving his hands in his pocket, and hunched his shoulders. A habit Hermione would learn meant he had done something idiotic and was scared of being scolded for it.

She sighed, feeling her stomach plummet with apprehension. "I gathered that much, since we haven't spoken about it."

She could almost see his brain ticking away with possible excuses and explanations. Eventually he settled for staring at something over Hermione's shoulder, with a grimace on his face.

It was only after she heard three identically low chuckles, that she realised he wasn't looking at some_thing_, but some_one_.

She turned on the spot and came face to face with the three smirking faces of Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini. She sighed irritably, which only caused the faces to warp into extremely amused grins.

"Well, bloody hell," Weasley said with mock disbelief to the two teens by his side, though he was eyeing Hermione with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "Turns out he wasn't bullshitting."

Potter chuckled, before moving closer to her. "I never picked him as your type, Granger," he said, before leaning in and whispering, "if you get sick of him, which I assume you will, I'm yours. No questions asked."

She eyed him disgustedly, and went to step away, but was surprised when Draco stepped roughly in between them. He put his arm tightly around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her against his chest, nuzzling his nose into her thick curls in what she realised was a rather possessive gesture.

Potter and Weasley chuckled in amusement. "Someone needs to relax a little," commented the red head. Hermione heard them say a few more things between them, but was far too distracted by the warm feeling of Draco's breath on the top of her head.

After a moment, she snapped out of her daze, and pushed Draco away. He looked like a dog who'd just been kicked.

"So did you tell them just so they could make smart ass comments?" She asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I thought you wanted people to know...and they didn't believe me when I told them, so I needed proof."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but was distracted when Potter walked past patting Draco on the back. "Congrats, mate."

Weasley followed shortly after with a similar gesture. "Nice one."

"Hey!" Blaise cried indignantly, looking annoyed, "How come he gets patted on the back? All you did to me when I told you about Luna was laugh at me!"

Potter turned back around with a smirk. "Because Luna doesn't have the nicest breasts I've seen in a while."

"Oi!" Draco cried angrily, looking as though he were about to run after them and pummel the living day lights out of them. The two boys merely broke into chuckles, obviously seeing Draco's anger and Hermione's death stare, and disappeared around the corner.

"Gits," muttered Draco, looking as though he were thoroughly upset at their comment. He turned to Hermione, with a serious expression on his face. "Granger...promise me you'll only ever show them to me, yeah?"

"Are you an idiot?" she dead-panned, "At this rate you'll never be seeing them either." She crossed her arms over her chest just to magnify her point.

The almost hurt expression on his face would have made her feel bad, if she had not been so thoroughly annoyed at him. Honestly, what was wrong with the guy?

Their small bubble of hostility was burst by the overly cheerful voice of Blaise as he walked past. "You guys are gonna miss breakfast if you're not quick."

The two of them watched as the Italian turned the corner, leaving them alone in the corridor. After a moment of silence, Draco stepped toward her.

"Granger-,"

"What?" She asked, turning to him with a fierce expression.

"I don't want to start fighting already," he said seriously. She sighed, silently agreeing.

"Fighting is what we do though, isn't it? There's five years of evidence to verify that," she said plainly. She was surprised when he didn't smile, but instead looked rather sick.

"Don't remind me..."

"You confuse me." She said simply. He looked down at her with a puzzled expression.

"You act a different way around me, than you do with everyone else," she clarified. He looked silent in thought for a moment, before shrugging.

"Why would I show them what I only mean to show you? Both sides are me. I just know when to let somebody see them."

She nodded slowly at his explanation, understanding that he had a point. He had a reputation to uphold. She only wondered how being with her would damage that for him when people found out. _If_ they found out.

"I suppose you're right," she agreed. She turned to leave, but was stopped by two strong arms wrapping around her top half, pulling her back against his chest.

"You're angry at me." He said, nuzzling his face into the wild forest of curls on her neck.

She was quite taken aback by such an affectionate move from him, having never experienced it before. It seemed as though he never questioned anything he did, he just did it. Hermione had to admit, while she probably wouldn't be as confident with her affection, she did enjoy the feel of him this close.

"I'm not..." she said, after a moment of subtly basking in the warmth of him so close, "I suppose I'm just wondering why you told Potter and Weasley if you're worried about people knowing." She didn't want to admit that she was also worried about people knowing.

"They're my mates. I trust them, even if they are gits," he countered, his voice muffled from within her curls, "Besides, it'll make things easier 'cause we won't have to sneak about as much."

She nodded in agreement, before smirking as she remembered his possessiveness just moment before. "You get jealous easily."

She felt warm breath on her neck as he huffed out a small chuckle, "Of course I would. I don't want them leering at you, making comments. That's my job."

He chuckled as she huffed indignantly. "You're insufferable."

"That didn't stop you from being in love with me for so long," he countered. She could feel his playful grin against her neck, and knew he was joking. Though a part of her knew he was delusional enough to believe that.

Her thoughts were broken by the sound of the bell, signalling the end of breakfast. She sighed.

"We should go. We've already missed breakfast," She informed him. Surprisingly he didn't move, from his place in the crook of her neck. "Or I could just build you a house in my hair, which ever you'd prefer."

"Good luck building a house in that frizz," he said mischievously, dodging as she whipped around to smack him on the arm.

"Oh come on, Granger," he said as she crossed her arms and pointed her nose in the air, "I've been telling you for years that your hairs frizzy. It's an endearment, really. Now I demand you snog me before class starts, otherwise I'm gonna be thinking about it all day."

Her cold demeanour faulted and she yelped in surprise as he stepped forward, scooping her up by her bottom, so her legs were wrapped around his waist. He placed numerous chaste kisses on her lips, neck, cheeks, and the skin exposed on her collarbone.

"You don't know how good it is that I get to snog you whenever I want," he said, huskily, as he continued to taste her skin.

"I could always say 'no'," she informed him.

"You wouldn't be that cruel," he said, confidently, not pausing in his ministrations.

They were getting rather carried away with their snogging session until they heard the sounds of footsteps and chatter coming from around the corner. They shared a look of horror, before breaking apart and literally running in opposite directions. Extremely opposite, given Hermione had Defence Against the Dark Arts on the third floor and needed to go to the staircase.

After what she concluded was a safe amount of time, she followed a group of fourth year girls around the corner, to find Draco leaning against the wall in the corridor that would now bring back lovely memories every time Hermione walked it.

As she passed, he caught her eye and sent her a wink. One of the girls in front of Hermione faltered mid-step, before turning to her friends and shrieking, "Draco Malfoy just winked at me!"

Her friends began to squeal and chatter excitedly as they continued to walk along. Hermione smirked as she shared a glance back at Draco who had an expression of disgust and horror on his face.

Perhaps that would teach him to be a little more subtle next time.

* * *

><p>That lunchtime, after Ancient Runes, Hermione found herself walking alone towards the Great Hall. She was deep in thought about a few things; Neville, Ginny, Blaise, Draco, the whole damn fiasco, really, so she didn't notice the tall individual that slipped beside her and began walking at her pace.<p>

"Hey, Hermione, can we talk?" She looked up to find Blaise looking back at her with a friendly quirk of his lips. How coincidental that he would turn up just as she was wondering whether they'd talk again. "I haven't managed to catch you alone, so I thought now might be a good time?"

She nodded once and slowed her steps to a halt, turning to give him her full attention. He seemed to get slightly nervous at this, and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. Hermione couldn't help but notice Draco tended to do the same thing.

"So what did you want to talk about?" She asked.

He ran his hand through his hair, in what Hermione recognised as another nervous gesture. "I'm sorry," he blurted out.

Hermione eyed him curiously for a moment, before shrugging. "It's fine."

He looked slightly surprised. "Do you even know what I'm sorry for?"

"I assume for how much of an ass you've been lately." She said with a smile in her voice. He grimaced.

"Yeah. Look, I've been a pretty bad friend to you, what with the whole Hopkins thing, and then not talking for two months, and then yelling at you yesterday. I don't have an explanation for it...but I was hoping you might be willing to forget about it, so we could go back to normal."

Hermione thought for a moment. Blaise looked genuinely sincere, and despite the fact he had been rather odd lately, she didn't exactly feel like holding a grudge. "Sure, clean slate."

He furrowed his brow. "Huh?"

She let out a chuckle, "It means all the horrible stuff is wiped away. I forgive you."

"Oh," he said, looking relieved, "Thank you. I promise from now on I'll stop butting in. Or at least try. It's difficult sometimes, because not everyone is straightforward. It annoys me."

Hermione smiled at his sheepish expression. "I suppose it would be a lot different now if you hadn't gotten involved. Draco would most likely still be hexing me..." She mused. Blaise gave her a worried glance.

"Hermione..." She looked up to find a hesitant expression on his face, "do you think you made the right decision? For yourself, I mean. I'd hate to think you did something you didn't want to just 'cause I yelled at you."

She shook her head, smiling. "Don't worry, Blaise. I think I needed it. I most likely would have rejected him again, but only because I couldn't admit certain things to myself. I guess I have too much pride for my own good."

He didn't return her smile, but merely stared at her with a slight grimace. She knew he was still feeling guilty. "You weren't ready, were you? Merlin, I pushed you to go for it, and you regret it. I'm such a prick."

He ran his hands through his hair, looking stricken. Hermione had only ever seen so much emotion written on Blaise's face a few times. She put her hands up in an appeasing gesture, trying to calm him down.

"Blaise relax, please. I don't think I'll regret it." He looked up curiously.

"While I do feel like I've jumped in the deep end, without wading in the shallow end first, I think it'll be ok." At his confused expression, she continued. "I've heard that timing is everything. You can lo- _like_ someone, but the circumstances might be bad for it. On the contrary, you may have the perfect circumstances to be with someone, only to realise later that you were too late because you didn't act on your feelings then and there. Do you understand?"

He stared at her for a moment. "...Kind of."

She smiled. "I think your timing was better than mine. I think, despite what Draco might say, if I'd waited any longer he would've given up. I think you knew that, and you knew I'd regret it when I caught up with my feelings and realised all the hesitation and excuses were ridiculous. That's why you pushed me to go for it."

They stood in silence for a moment, before Blaise furrowed a brow. "Since when did you become so wise with this sort of thing?"

Hermione couldn't help but grin. "My Grandma and Aunt had a talk with me at Christmas after I got the necklace." She moved her hand to her neck and patted the pendent that was sitting under her robes, "I suppose I disregarded their words then, thinking they were ridiculous, but I guess now I see they had a point. After what happened yesterday, I remembered what they said, and everything just sort of...fit together, like a very complicated, but oddly perfect puzzle."

"So you would've regretted rejecting Draco this time?" Blaise asked tentatively. He still wanted to ensure he hadn't pressured her into anything.

Hermione nodded. "I think so, yes."

Blaise let out a relieved breath, before cocking his head slightly. "But that doesn't mean you've sorted everything out. It means you're with Draco because you know you'll regret it if you wait, not because you're ready. That's just as bad."

Hermione smiled, thinking back to the events of that morning. The way Draco had wrapped his arms around her protectively, the way he'd nuzzled into her hair. He was helping her be ready. "I think it'll be okay, Blaise, I don't see myself regretting this."

He stared at her for a moment, trying to discern whether there was a lie in her voice or face; there wasn't. After a moment, he nodded.

"Alright." He agreed, before letting out a small chuckle, "I suppose Draco's just one of those people who convinces you to jump in head-first, ay."

Hermione grinned and nodded, "I see we're on the same page, now."

They shared one last grin, before heading off to lunch. Blaise couldn't help feeling much lighter than he had before. He was happy that Hermione was not resentful of him, and that she hadn't just agreed to date Draco because of his persuasion, but because of her own choice. Maybe she and Draco really could be happy together.

* * *

><p>Potions with the Gryffindors had never been one of Blaise's favourite classes. Snape was always snarky, the potions stank like rotten eggs most of the time, and if you were really unlucky, the cauldron might blow up in your face leaving you with singed eyebrows. Seamus Finnegan, Blaise noted time and time again, often had that problem in their class.<p>

Today, however, Potions was even more torturous than usual. The reason for that was because they had been partnered up to brew Veritaserum, and Hermione's name had just been listed off to be partnered with Theodore Nott. Draco did not like it one bit, and he wasn't being inconspicuous about it either.

"Just calm down, mate, it's one potion," Blaise reasoned, trying to appease Draco as he scowled at the desk across the room where Hermione had just nervously slipped in beside Nott. She looked about as happy at the pairing as Draco did.

Potter and Weasley were staring at the scene with wide curious eyes.

"Whoa, you actually _do_ like her? I thought you were just proving a point," Potter mused, as Draco scowled even harder.

"Yeah, I thought you were just trying to prove you could get the girl who hated you the most to date you, or at least because she has awesome boobs," Weasley agreed, not noticing the glower Draco directed toward him, "But I should've known from that little act of possession this morning. You never cease to surprise me, mate."

"Shut up," Draco muttered, "of all people, Snape has to pair her with _him_."

Potter shrugged easily, clearly not seeing the seriousness of it all. "Why is it that you hate Nott so much anyway?" he asked curiously, missing the frantic shaking of the head and mouthing of the word "NO!" from Blaise behind Draco's head.

Draco turned to Potter, eyeing him with a sceptic expression, "Haven't I told you?"

Potter shook his head. Draco took a deep breath before clearing his throat. Weasley seemed to sense a long-winded story coming on, and left to find his partner, Parvarti Patil, before he got stuck listening to the tale.

"Well, it all happened in the year of 1992," Draco began slowly. Blaise groaned from behind him, feeling the urge to bang his head on the table. Draco had told him this story many times, and it often came about at odd moments. Christmas dinners, Quidditch games, random conversations that involved Nott, random conversations involving words that rhymed with 'Nott'. He'd heard it far too many times.

Blaise had almost thought this would be his lucky year, in which he'd ever have to hear this story again. Oh, how wrong he was, because Draco was as intent on his hatred for Nott as he'd ever been.

"It was the year I joined the Quidditch team as Chaser." Draco continued, "Anyway, Nott tried out for Chaser too, and got the spot alongside me and some other git who graduated the year after. We never got along. He'd always get in my way and try to steal the quaffle when I went to score, even though we were on the same team. He couldn't stand that I was just a better Chaser than he was."

"Last year when they made me captain- youngest Captain in Hogwarts Quidditch history, may I add," Blaise rolled his eyes at this, "Nott was severely pissed off, I suppose he thought he deserved the title. Who knows? Anyway, the thing is, after that I replaced him on the team, mainly 'cause he's an ass, but mostly cause he hogs the quaffle, ever since then he takes any opportunity to fuck with me, which is why I don't want him near Granger. That's the reason he gloated so much about taking my Prefect position, that prick, he just likes to get one-up since I won't let him on the Quidditch team."

The blonde continued scowling at Nott, who was setting up his cauldron across the table. Potter stared at Draco with a disbelieving expression.

"So you hate him because of _Quidditch_?" Potter asked, incredulously. Blaise knew it must be a ridiculous grudge if even Potter, who was Quidditch-obsessed, thought it was ridiculous.

Draco turned to Potter with furrowed brows, "What do you mean only Quidditch? That small thing can lead to bigger things."

Potter gave Malfoy a sceptical look, before standing, "In this case, mate, I think you're being a little paranoid."

Potter left to go sit beside Dean Thomas, his partner for that potion, leaving Blaise and Draco at the table.

"You just need to relax," Blaise advised Draco, "Hermione won't like it if you get all jealous and angry when she talks to guys."

Draco looked put-out. "It's just 'cause it's Nott, of all people." He assured Blaise. The Italian wasn't falling for it, and gave his friend one last sceptical glance, before moving over to sit with his partner, Lavender Brown, who was looking far too happy with the arrangement.

He looked back over, only when Longbottom went to sit beside Draco, to see that the blonde was watching Hermione from across the room. His expression was no longer angry, but more worried. Blaise sighed.

Draco had never known what it was like to get something you really want, only to live in fear because at any moment, you could lose it. He had never cared for someone that much before, not like he cared for Hermione, and Blaise knew it was causing Draco a lot of stress, especially since he'd officially 'gotten' Hermione.

Blaise could only hope that his friend had enough sense to not follow his feelings and push Hermione away in the process. He shot a quick glance over at the girl in question and found that she was completely oblivious to the not-so-subtle expression of longing and slight worry on Draco's face as he watched her.

* * *

><p>Hermione tentatively chopped her ingredients, trying to ignore the heavy silence emanating between herself and her partner. Theodore Nott, in her opinion, had to be one of the most intimidating boys in the school. That spot used to be held by Draco and the other Silver Marauders, but obviously, she was not as worried about them anymore.<p>

No, now Nott seemed to be the most unnerving person around, especially since he scowled most of the time. He was a tall guy, possibly close to 6ft tall, with lean muscle and rather long limbs, though not horribly so. Hermione knew many girls (or at least Lavender and Parvarti) considered him to be attractive.

Hermione didn't completely disagree, but in all honesty she hadn't spent much time looking at him, since he'd most likely try to hex her if she did. His hair was a very dark brown, almost black, much like Blaise's. However, Nott's hair was nothing like Blaise's or even Draco's, whose hair was relatively straight. His hair was set in tight curls that made Hermione assume that if he let it grow out from its crew cut, than he'd probably have an afro.

His skin was extremely pale, though not as much as Draco's. The one time Hermione snuck a peek into his eyes while working next to him, she realised they were green; almost as green as Potter's, though not quite.

Hermione mused silently that she had often associated green eyes with kind people. It seemed her stereotype was really crushed, since neither Potter, nor Nott, seemed that amicable. Potter, however, wasn't that bad now that he wasn't threatening her anymore, though she couldn't stand the rude comments about her boobs.

No, Potter no longer scared her, but Nott was a different story. Hermione was taking twice as long chopping her ingredients because her hands were so clammy with nerves. She did not like being in such close proximity with someone who likely hated her blood, and house, and just _her_ in general.

She heard a low rumble next to her, and realised that Nott had cleared his throat. She looked up with wide fearful eyes, almost expecting him to be scowling at her, or pointing his wand at her from behind the table. Instead, she found him staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" she asked, trying to feign confidence. In all honesty, she felt like squirming under his gaze which was causing her discomfort.

"Ingredients," he said simply, in a low voice, nodding toward the chopped ingredients in front of her. She suddenly realised that the potion had turned grey, and she needed to add her chopped Belladonna in order to make it clear. She blushed at her mistake, feeling foolish.

She scooped up the ingredients, and quickly dropped them into the cauldron, before turning away. Se didn't, however, miss the roll of Nott's eyes in her direction.

That ass.

She crossed her arms, and settled on her stool, choosing to stare at Draco and Neville, who were quite oddly chatting during the brewing of their potion. However, most of the talking was being done quite vigorously by Draco. Neville merely nodded occasionally, looking as though he was fearful to say or do anything else. Hermione narrowed her eyes. What the heck was Draco telling him?

After everyone had brewed their potions and they'd been inspected by Snape, they were dismissed, and the class left for their respective common rooms. Hermione didn't miss the small, but subtle brush of her hand from Draco's as he slipped past her and continued in the other direction toward the Slytherin common rooms with Blaise, Potter and Weasley.

She turned back to find Neville watching her curiously. She immediately felt like a bug under a microscope.

"What is it?" She asked. He shook his head tiredly.

"Malfoy. He either really hates Nott, or he just likes you a lot. I don't doubt that now."

Hermione's stomach flipped and she felt panic rise over her. What had Draco said to him to give him that impression? "Huh?" She asked, deciding to feign ignorance.

"He just wouldn't shut up about how stupid Nott is; he kept looking over at you two as well. He said something about Quidditch, but in all honesty I blanked him out a bit. I've got to be careful with professor Snape around. All I know is he seemed annoyed that you two were sitting together."

Hermione nodded, as they walked up the staircase, silently thinking on Neville's words. Draco was obviously a very jealous person, and apparently he'd been so annoyed at the seating arrangement that he'd ranted at Neville, of all people.

She wondered if Neville was even more suspicious of them then he already had been? She felt horrible for lying to him about the fact that she and Draco were now a lot more serious than she'd let on before, but she was worried he'd be angry, or deceived, or disappointed.

Maybe she could just subtly hint at him over the course of a few days, slowly desensitising him to the idea. Maybe then, when she told him, he'd be less likely to freak out and accuse Draco of using a love potion against her. Actually, she was surprised that he hadn't suggested that already. Maybe the idea of her and Draco wasn't so unbelievable afterall?

"Hey, Hermione!" The girl in question turned at the sound of her name being called, to find Ginny running up the staircases, pushing past others in order to catch up with her.

Normally Hermione would be happy to see Ginny, but right now she was inwardly panicking, especially because she knew the subject the red head would want to know about. She had assumed Ginny would guess what had happened the night before, and that she'd be annoyed, but she didn't look that way at all, in fact, she looked as though she were just itching to find out what happened.

The red-head caught up to Hermione and Neville on the fifth floor landing, out of breath, but with a large grin on her face. "So what happened? You rejected him right?"

Hermione wasn't surprised that Ginny had jumped straight to the point, she only wished, however, that the girl had waited until Neville was out of earshot because he was now eyeing her with a confused expression.

"Uh," Hermione hesitated, "I did."

She knew it was better to lie for now, at least until she could explain everything to Neville. He was her best friend, first and foremost, and she wouldn't be telling anyone anything until he knew first. Having him find out through telling Ginny would just be horrible, not to mention, Hermione really didn't want the red-head to know.

Ginny's grin grew wider, and she let out a loud chuckle. "Great! I'm happy you listened to me, Hermione. I just wish I could've seen his face when you told him to sod off." She laughed again, and Hermione grimaced.

"Yea..." She said weakly, not sure what else to say. She shared a glance at Neville who was eyeing her with slightly furrowed brows.

"I'll see you at dinner anyway and you can tell me about it then," Ginny said brightly, "I've got Charms homework now, so I'm busy." She frowned, moving past the pair, and with one last wave behind her she continued up the stairs.

Hermione watched her leave with a grimace, having no idea what she'd tell the girl at dinner. She'd have to make up something quick.

"So Malfoy asked you out?" Neville asked from beside her. She whipped around to stare at him wide-eyed. She really didn't want him to know that. Hermione nodded slowly in answer.

"And you said no?" He asked. Hermione eyed him for a moment, wondering if she should just tell the truth. The hopeful look on his face stopped her.

"Yeah," she lied, "I said no."

He eyed her for a moment, as though he were trying to see if she were lying, after a moment he nodded and looked away. Hermione wondered if he genuinely believed her. Either way, she felt a horrible weight of guilt settle in her stomach once more; that seemed to be happening a lot lately.

Neville was oddly silent as they continued on their way up the stairs, and Hermione realised that he mustn't believe her at all.

* * *

><p>Hermione walked swiftly along the stone corridor, checking behind her every now and then to ensure she wasn't being followed. She may have been acting a little overly cautious, but she really didn't want to take any chances of someone following her and discovering she was meeting a certain blonde Slytherin in the dark, secluded shelves of the back of the library.<p>

She had only just managed to escape Ginny's grasp after dinner, using the excuse of a DADA essay to slip away to the library. The red-head had pestered her non-stop during dinner, asking for minute details about how Hermione had rejected Draco, including a detailed description of his facial expression as he told him. Hermione had never lied so much, and was starting to think she was creating a rather tangled web of deceit that she'd most likely get stuck in.

At least she didn't have to lie to Neville again tonight; he was already occupied, having been pulled away by Hannah Abbot so he could help her with Herbology homework. Now, Hermione was alone, and as she slipped through the shelves of the library, she glanced about for the unmistakeable head of platinum hair that would signal Draco's presence.

The only problem was that he wasn't there. She grumbled silently to herself, feeling annoyed that he had made the plans to meet, yet he wasn't even here yet. She decided, instead of leaving straight away like the impatient part of her wanted to, to browse the shelves at the back of the library.

She began idly running her fingers over the book, though it was a struggle to read the titles in such dim lighting. She contemplated moving further toward the front of the library, but it was just as that thought came, that a certain Slytherin slipped behind her.

She jumped at first, having not been prepared, before turning around and coming face to face with Draco. He grinned at her, but Hermione didn't return the gesture, having spotted the odd red mark on his face that was visible even in the dim lighting.

"What happened?" she asked, pointing at the mark. He let out a huff, and his face went stony.

"Weaslette," he said simply, his voice full of disdain. Hermione's eyebrows shot up, and she forgot to scold him for using such a horrible nick-name for Ginny.

"Ginny slapped you? Why?" She asked quickly. He shrugged, shoving his hand in his pockets. Hermione narrowed her eyes, knowing exactly what that gesture meant.

"What did you do?" She asked, her voice filled with accusation.

"I didn't do anything." He shot back, she eyed him sceptically, and he sighed, "Fine. I was walking here to meet you after dinner, and we crossed paths. She started saying all this stuff about you rejecting me, and how I deserved it, for what I did to her. She reckons I'll hurt you, because I change girlfriends more then I change my briefs," he scoffed, a look of disgust on his face.

"And?" Hermione prodded, sensing there was much more to the story than that.

"And...I may have told her that I never actually liked her, and that I only did it to piss off Blaise because he kissed you."

Hermione stared for a moment, wondering what horrible consequences could possibly come from this. "And she slapped you?"

He nodded, rubbing his cheek. "She seemed pretty pissed."

Hermione sighed. Of course Ginny would be angry and hurt learning that Draco was never really interested. Hermione slid down to the floor onto her bottom, her back resting on the shelf. Draco slid down next to her a second later.

"She's going to be even more intent on keeping me away from you, now. I haven't even told Neville. If they find out..." she trailed off, not wanting to imagine what would happen. Maybe Ginny would tell people, maybe she'd hate her, maybe she'd turn Neville against her...?

Hermione shook those thoughts out of her head. Why did she have such little faith in Ginny?

"Don't worry," Draco assured, placing his hand on her knee, "I won't let her do anything."

Hermione knew exactly what he was referring to. "You can't keep dunking people in the prefect's bath every time they annoy you."

He frowned. "It works though."

She sighed tiredly, before remembering another issue of his. "You also can't get annoyed when I talk to other guys."

She heard him huff. "Nott is a completely different story. I don't want him near you."

"I don't think he wants to be near me himself, so you don't have to worry."

He eyed her for a moment, before leaning over and kissing her on the mouth. It was more than just a kiss, however, it was an act of reassurance. He needed reassurance.

It was only as they broke apart that they heard the sound of racing footsteps from close by, getting further away. Hermione and Draco shared a look of horror.

"Someone saw us," she breathed. Draco didn't answer but merely shot up from his seat beside her, and began racing through the shelves, leaving Hermione to watch from her spot of the floor, a feeling of panic running through her.

They were about to be found out, already...

She waited for what seemed like hours, but was really only twenty minutes, for Draco to return. He looked stressed, and Hermione knew that even he knew they were screwed.

"I couldn't find who it was," he muttered, running his hands through his hair. Hermione's head fell in her hands. They were over already. As soon as the rumour went around the school, they'd have to stop seeing each other to be safe, in case Draco's father somehow heard...

"I know what you're thinking," he said, resuming his spot next to her, she looked up at him curiously, "If they tell people, we'll just deny it. Even if my father finds out, there's no proof other than someone's word against mine, he might hex me, but I'm not ending this. Not yet. It's been a fucking day. That's not long enough for me."

Hermione furrowed her brow. He'd risk getting hexed just for her? Then again, either way he'd probably get hexed. "Maybe they won't tell anyone?" She said hopefully. Even she knew that possibility was slim.

Draco didn't answer, but merely slipped a warm hand around hers.

As they sat in the dim light of the library, basking in the close proximity of the other, for what might be the last time, Hermione couldn't help but realise she did want this. She wanted it more than anything, and the fact that it might end now was not something she was ready to deal with.

She was not ready for it to end. Not yet.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I suppose you'd call this a cliff-hanger. I don't usually do them, but I guess it felt right.**

**I had a few reviews on the last chapter with some people saying that they didnt think Hermione should have accepted Draco yet, and in all honesty, I was surprised. When people say it happened too quick, I was like 'what the fudge?' 150, 000 words is what it took, and I dunno, but I felt like it was adequate. I'm sorry to those who thought it was too quick, but I felt like it was dragging on a bit too much and any more would just be going around in circles.**

**Another thing was a few people were annoyed at Blaise and Ginny for either yelling at Hermione or interfering. This is exactly what I want. I dont want a story where some characters are perfect, and some are completely flawed. I want all the characters to have bad bits, cause that's reality. Everyone loves Blaise, and I think it was making many of the other characters look bad, so I wanted to add a little bit of a flaw to his character by having him be an ass for a bit. Everyone seems to hate on Ginny too, but I assure you, she's not evil, but just a typical teenage girl with a fiery personality.**

**As for Hermione, I got a review saying that she isn't the same feisty Hermione from the books or something like that, but that's the point. I'm trying to portray her in a way that would show what she'd be like without Harry and Ron's friendship over the years to strengthen her, and being bullied all the time. I dont want her to be completely tough and kick-ass, because in reality, I dont think anyone would be like that after what she had been through. She'd still be weak at times. And that's her flaw.**

**Oh, I also have a question about Theodore Nott. A few people wanted him to make Draco jealous, but overall, would you guys like him to turn out evil or good in the long-run? I have ideas for both, but I suppose you're the readers so I'd like to get your input :)**

**Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this. Let me know what you thought of it. Thanks for all the reviews and things, it encourages me to keep going with this :)**

**Cheers, Leni**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Chapter 17**_

_...in which things aren't as doomed as they seem._

* * *

><p>Hermione stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to the girls' dormitory, peeking around the corner into the slowly emptying common room. As she saw Neville finally check his watch for the last time, with a sigh, before picking up his bag and leaving, she finally stepped out from her hiding spot.<p>

In all honesty, Hermione was tempted, for the first time in her life, to skip class and go to the hospital wing with a fake illness. She knew, however, that she'd have to face her classmates at one point, so that seemed rather useless.

Hermione knew by now that the rumour of her and Draco's relationship would surely be circulating the Great hall breakfast tables, and no doubt Neville would have heard a whisper of it on his way down to eat.

It was just Hermione's horrible luck that she and Draco would get found on, literally, on their first day of being together. She knew it was their fault, though; they hadn't been as careful as they should've been. They shouldn't have been meeting in the library. Even though they had met there multiple times before, they were bound to be stumbled upon at one point.

Hermione had spent nearly all night in bed wondering who it was. Was it someone who loved gossip? Or was it someone who might keep it quiet? She knew the chances of the whole event not coming out were slim to none. The news of Draco Malfoy, pureblood snob, snogging Hermione Granger, Mudblood, would be just too saucy to pass up.

Hermione at least knew the person wasn't someone in Gryffindor; otherwise, she would have most definitely been rounded up when she returned to the common room the night before. No, no one in Gryffindor knew yet, therefore it was someone from one of the other houses. She just prayed that it wasn't a Slytherin.

Hermione picked up her book bag and hung it from her shoulder. She took a calming breath, and headed towards the portrait hole and down to breakfast. There was no point putting this off any longer. If the whole school was going to stare at her and whisper about her, then she may as well get it over and done with now.

* * *

><p>Downstairs in the dungeons, the Silver Marauders sat on the end of their beds, discussing the events that would surely lead to Draco either getting disowned, or severely hexed. They all had a feeling it would be a latter.<p>

After returning from the library the previous night, Draco had informed his three friends of what had happened in the library, before listing his suspicion of Ginny. Weasley hadn't exactly supported the theory, but given the evidence, even he had to admit it seemed as though Ginny was the one who had seen them.

"It had to be her," Draco said again, "She was angry at me and slapped me just before I left for the library. It's likely that she followed me there. I've no doubt she's said something to Granger, or the whole Gryffindor common room. It sounds like something she'd do if she was pissed off enough, right Weasley?"

He nodded. "Yep. You don't wanna get on her bad side."

"Bit late for that," Potter added unnecessarily.

Blaise sighed. "Are you sure it was her? Why was she mad at you anyway? Even if she did see you guys, there's a good chance she won't say anything, she's friends with Hermione after all."

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, causing Blaise to cock his head and eye the blond suspiciously. "What the fuck did you do?"

Draco locked his hands together in front of him. "I may have told her that the only reason I dated her was to piss you off."

There was a moment of silence, in which Blaise was openly glaring at the other teen. From the side, Weasley spoke up, his voice full of confusion, "Why would that piss Zabini off?"

"Why would you say that?" Blaise hissed. Draco looked affronted.

"Oh come on, she already knew you had a thing for her, now she just realises that it was a lot more serious than she thought."

"Wait! You what-," Weasley cried, turning to Blaise, who interrupted his exclamation.

"Well I'd rather she didn't know that at all." The Italian muttered angrily. Draco shrugged easily.

"It's a bit late for that," he said, echoing Potter's previous statement. Blaise grumbled slightly, but didn't say anything more.

"Well, mate, I'll keep an eye out for any rumours, and maybe ask a few of the girls if they've heard anything," Potter offered, looking as though he would enjoy his job quite a bit. Draco nodded in thanks.

"Yea, I'll do that too," Weasley muttered, still eyeing Blaise with suspicion. The Italian rolled his eyes, before turning to Draco.

"I think, if someone really did see the two of you snogging, than it'd be all over the school right now."

Draco stared at him blankly, "Thank you for the vote of confidence. "I'm sure if Hermione's at breakfast she's being hounded already. We better get this over with then."

The four boys stood from the ends of their beds and headed out the door toward what they assumed would be chaos and mayhem.

* * *

><p>Hermione had expected a few things when she'd made her way down to the Great hall that morning. She'd expected dirty looks, rude comments, even the odd piece of food thrown at her. What she hadn't expected when she'd entered the large room that morning was to have nothing happen. Nothing at all. Not even a blink of an eye at her presence. In fact, no one even looked up when she entered the room.<p>

She had never been so relieved at being so invisible in her whole life that she almost let out a relieved, hysterical giggle. As she made her way to the Gryffindor table she saw Neville scooping eggs onto his plate, down the end of the table Ginny sat with a few of the girls in her year. She didn't look up as Hermione slid into her seat next to Neville, and Hermione could only assume that she was annoyed over yesterday's discovery that Draco had used her all because of Hermione.

In all honesty, the discovery had been a shock to Hermione as well, but she had been far more worried about how Ginny would act toward her the next time they spoke. Though now, it seemed like that wouldn't be for a while.

She sighed, as she scooped some eggs onto her own plate. She was ravenous after her night spent worrying; the sick feeling that had been sitting in the bottom of her stomach had disappeared now that it seemed like whoever had seen them hadn't told anyone, or perhaps didn't actually see them at all.

She smiled to herself as she scooped a fork-full of eggs into her mouth. Next to her, Neville watched with a grimace on his face. "Hermione?"

She turned to face her best-friend and her smile immediately fell at his expression. "Neville, whats wrong?"

He pushed his egg around his plate for a moment. "Is there something you wanna tell me, Hermione?"

Hermione swallowed, sitting her fork down on her plate. Why was Neville looking at her like that? Did he know something? Maybe it was him who had seen her and Draco last night, and he hadn't brought it up because he was waiting for her to tell him herself. That would explain why the whole school didn't know...

No. No, Neville was doing Herbology homework with Hannah Abbot last night. But they would have been in the library for that...

Suddenly the sick feeling in Hermione's stomach returned, and she no longer had an appetite for the large pile of food sitting on the plate in front of her.

"Why do you ask?" She questioned, trying to steady the tremor in her voice that undermined her determined innocence.

He shrugged. "You just seem different lately..." he said. She knew, deep down, that Neville was suspicious of her; that he suspected something more between her and Draco. So why, in God's name, didn't she just tell him?

She looked down at her plate, unable to take his pleading stare. After a moment she sighed. "I don't want you to be disappointed."

He face faded into an expression of understanding, "You didn't say no to him."

She shook her head, "No."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him look away. She wondered whether he was angry or upset, but his expression was blank. "I wish you would've told me. I feel like the more you're around those Silver Marauders, the more we drift apart."

Hermione sat up straight, alarmed at his words, "That'll never happen," she assured him, "I promise it won't."

He stared at her for a moment, almost as though he were gauging the sincerity of her words. After a few seconds he turned back to his plate. "You never thought you'd be dating Draco Malfoy, but that happened, didn't it?"

He stood from the table, slinging his book bag over his shoulder. "I'll see you later, Hermione."

With that, he left her sitting at the Gryffindor table, staring after him with a devastated expression on her face. She turned away, only to find Ginny watching her from down the table. As soon as they made eye contact, the red-head turned away.

Hermione, having thoroughly lost her appetite, stood and left the Great hall in the direction of her Ancient Runes classroom. She was thoroughly upset at the possibility of losing her friendship with Neville over her relationship with Draco. Why couldn't she just have both of them? Maybe that was too selfish of her?

The thought of losing her friendship with Neville, was enough to send her racing up the staircase, with unshed tears in her eyes. She was so occupied with her distress at that moment that she didn't notice the group of Slytherin boys who had just rounded the corner, only to notice her running up the staircase looking close to tears.

"Wonder what's up with her?" Potter asked, with a baffled expression on his face. Blaise and Draco turned to eye him disbelievingly.

"I imagine it has something to do with the whole school knowing about her and Draco," Blaise said, plainly. Draco nodded in agreement.

"She's probably the target of a few jealous girls. You know, they'd hate her because she got me, and they didn't. It's understandable." He shrugged. Blaise stared at him blankly, not even surprised at his egotistical view on things. He hated to admit it, however, but Draco was probably right.

"Best get it over with then. You'll probably get a nice visit from your father at this rate," Weasley added darkly. They all shared meaningful looks, knowing exactly what that 'visit' would involve.

After a few hesitant seconds, the group entered the Great Hall, and immediately several girls ran over to them. This, however, wasn't an unusual occurrence for the teens, and it did nothing to calm Draco's fears. Blaise decided to take the investigation into his own hands, and split off from his three friends to head over to the Ravenclaw table.

A few girls as the Ravenclaw table sat up straighter, with sickeningly sweet smiles on their face as they noticed him approach, he didn't even spare them a glance as he slipped into the space beside Luna.

"Morning," The blonde greeted brightly. She was writing in a small note pad, whilst nibbling on a piece of toast. Blaise also noticed with a smile that she was wearing the earrings he'd bought her for Christmas; a pair of silver radishes.

"Morning, love," he greeted back, placing a kiss on the smooth skin of her cheek. He looked down at the notepad she was furiously writing in, "What are you working on?"

"Oh, It's an article for the Quibbler on the mating habits of Nargles," she explained in such a serious fashion that he had to fight down a grin. He enjoyed that she was able to say odd things in such an unfazed fashion.

"I see," he muttered, skimming over what she'd written so far, "would you like some help with it later?"

Luna turned to him with a raised eyebrow, and rather sceptical expression. He knew that she knew by 'help' he meant snogging under the beech tree near the Black lake. "Alright. But we at least have to get some of it done."

He nodded. "I wouldn't dream of distracting you," he said with a cheeky grin, "Oh. I almost forgot. I actually came over here to ask you something."

Luna's interest looked piqued. "What is it?"

Blaise leaned in slightly, ensuring that the many girls around who were glaring at the pair could not here the conversation. "Someone saw Hermione and Draco together last night, they don't know who it was, but it's important it doesn't get out. Have you heard anything about it? Doesn't seem like it's big news."

He looked around at the relatively bored, and quiet people in the hall. Surely if they knew about Hermione and Draco, then they'd be whispering and chatting frantically. But half of them looked as though they might fall asleep.

Luna looked thoughtful for a moment, as though she were trying to wrack her brains for a mention of that topic, after a moment she shook her head. "I haven't heard anything. Funny, you'd think it'd be quite big news. Maybe whoever heard didn't say anything?"

Blaise nodded in agreement. That was the only explanation, other than the person not really seeing them, but Draco had been certain they had. So who was this person and why hadn't they told anyone?

Maybe it really was Ginny? Blaise's eyes sought out the unmistakeable long read hair of Ginny Weasley at the Gryffindor table, and he was almost as surprised as she was when they made eye contact. She looked away just as quickly with a blush the colour of her hair heating up her cheeks.

Blaise narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Was she acting odd because she knew something about Hermione and Draco, or because she now knew Blaise had practically been in love with her at one point? In all honesty, he didn't care too much, as long as no one knew about his friends' love life.

"I should probably go back and tell Draco not to worry," Blaise said reluctantly, turning back to his girlfriend, "I'll see you this afternoon?"

Luna nodded in agreement, seemingly distracted with her article. Blaise shook his head, smiling, as he headed back to the Slytherin table.

"Well?" Draco questioned impatiently, just as Blaise slumped into his seat, "Did Loony hear anything? Does anyone know?"

Blaise scowled at Draco's use of Luna's less-than-desirable nickname. "Stop calling her that. And no, she didn't hear anything. No one knows."

Draco's shoulders relaxed and he let out a relieved breath. "Thank Merlin. I wouldn't like to think what my father would do if he found out...Still, I wonder why they didn't tell anyone...?"

"Maybe they just don't care?" Weasley suggested, through a mouthful of half chewed egg and bacon. Draco shrugged, looking thoughtful.

"Maybe..." he replied idly, though he didn't look like he accepted such a simple explanation.

"So what are you going to do if your father finds out?" Potter asked curiously. Blaise and Draco shared a dark look.

"Dunno..." Draco replied, "I hope I have a bit more time to prepare for that. Lucky I do."

Potter nodded in agreement, before furrowing his eyebrows. "So if no one knows, I wonder why Granger was bawling her eyes out?"

Draco looked towards the direction of the door as he took a bite out of an apple, his expression one of concern and curiosity. Unfortunately, just as he stood to find Hermione, the bell rang, signalling the beginning of their class. He would have to wait to find out the answer to that question.

* * *

><p>Hermione plodded unenthusiastically down the stairs toward the great hall for lunch that day, despite the fact that she had no appetite whatsoever. She still had a sick feeling in her stomach from her conversation with Neville that morning, and all she felt like doing was sinking into a hole and disappearing to a place where she couldn't hurt anyone else.<p>

She didn't blame Neville for his reaction towards her news; she knew he would never take it well. At least when she had only admitted to liking the Slytherin there was a chance those feelings might fade, but now that they were actually together, it was something else.

She had been wondering all morning whether it was worth all the drama it seemed to be creating in her life. The truth was, Hermione felt like her decision to be with Draco was the right one...It just seemed like no one else thought that.

Neville was mad at her. Whether it was from her keeping secrets, or from the relationship itself, she didn't know. Ginny was obviously mad at her out of her unrequited feelings for Draco. Funnily enough, the only people that seemed to accept them were the people Hermione had once despised with a passion: The Silver Marauders.

She had a past with Potter and Weasley, considering they nearly inadvertently killed her at one point through the unprecedented use of a dark spell. She had never thought she'd feel grateful towards them for anything, but for the fact that they accepted her and Draco without questions, without much ridicule, she was thankful.

Blaise was a completely different story. From the moment Hermione spoke to him for the first time she knew, deep down, that he wasn't like the others. He had always seemed like a genuinely good person, and she knew it was all because of Blaise that she was with Draco now. Had he never bridged the gaps, she'd most likely be hanging up-side down in the prefect's bathroom, drenched from the waist up while Potter and Weasley cackled away.

It was funny how the people she never expected anything from gave her what she needed the most; acceptance. But the people she expected to understand just didn't. She only hoped Neville would come around at some point, but right now she felt as though she was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Oi, Granger!" She turned at the sound of her last name being called by a familiar voice. She turned to find Potter and Weasley sauntering toward her, with unsettlingly large grins on their faces. Thank god there was no one around to see this interaction, she had no doubt it would be embarrassing.

"What is it?" She asked wearily, as they came up on either side of her. She almost bulked under the weight of their arms as they both flung one around her shoulder.

"We just came to pass on a message," Weasley informed her, looking as though he were taking pleasure from the expression of discomfort on his face.

"Malfoy wants to see you," Potter said, wiggling his eyebrows seductively. "He's waiting by the prefect's bathroom."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She had too many bad experiences with the Silver Marauders and the Prefects bathroom. "What does he want to see me there for?" She asked, barely containing her suspicion.

Potter chuckled. "Don't worry, he's not going to dunk you-,"

"Unless you're both naked, then he might decide to do that." Weasley interrupted. Hermione face flushed red at their insinuation, which only caused the boys to chuckle harder.

"Off you go, frills," Hermione scowled at Potter's use of that horrid nickname, "don't want to keep the man waiting."

She watched as they both continued down the staircase, before letting out a sigh and heading back up in the direction of the Prefects bathroom.

As she turned the corner onto the fifth floor, she spotted Draco leaning up against the portrait that opened the Prefects bathroom. When he noticed her approaching he stood up straight, and crossed his arms.

"Finally. I've been waiting for ages," he said grumpily. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Lunch only started ten minutes ago, you couldn't have been waiting that long," She shot back. He was the one that asked her to come here; how dare he get annoyed because she wasn't there on time.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, "would you just open the bathroom, please?"

Hermione eyed him stubbornly for a moment. "Why do you want to go in there?"

He sighed impatiently. "Because it's one of the only places we'll get some privacy. Quit being so paranoid."

"I'm not being paranoid! I've just had bad experiences in there with you."

Draco cocked his head to the side and stared at her thoughtfully for a moment, before breaking out into a smirk, "We could always make some good experiences." He said silkily.

"What do you-," she stopped mid-sentence and her confused expression turned to one of embarrassment as her cheeks flushed a violent red. Draco merely chuckled, motioning for her to open the bathroom.

Hermione, who was still rather flustered about what they could be doing in the bathroom, stepped forward mindlessly and stuttered the password. ensuring Draco couldn't overhear. It was only as the portrait hole swung open, and she felt a hand on her back, did she snap out of her not-so-G-rated daydream.

"I know what you were thinking about, Hermione. Have a little self-control." Draco said with mock condescension. She looked up to find him smirking down at her, looking far too smug. She willed her cheeks to return to their natural, and groaned inwardly when instead they felt even hotter than before.

It was only then that she whipped her head up to look at him, her face one of shock and awe. "You called me 'Hermione'. You never call me Hermione."

Draco shrugged easily. "I figured I'd try it out. Personally I don't think it has the same ring to it as Granger. Seriously, what were your parents thinking when they named you?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow and gave him a blunt look. "With a name like yours, you're asking _me_ that?"

Draco looked offended. "My parents are wizards. Names like that run in the family. It's a pureblood thing." He said shrugging. And suddenly the air was filled with tension. They knew they would have to discuss the subject of blood at one point or another but right now, it didn't seem like the time. Why burst the bubble?

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?" Hermione asked, steering the subject away from that topic. Draco looked relieved for this.

"I want to know why you were crying this morning." He stated plainly. Hermione looked up in shock. She hadn't realised anyone had seen her. She wished he hadn't.

"I was just upset." She said vaguely, with a shrug.

Draco cocked his head to the side and eyed her sceptically. "It's not like you to cry. Usually you just get angry. Mostly at me."

Hermione shrugged, though she couldn't help but be satisfied at the disconcerted expression on his face. She was glad she instilled some sort of 'fear' in him. Perhaps he'd think twice before he messed with her.

"I get angry at you, yes," She clarified. "But this wasn't about you. It's Neville…" She swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the shake in her voice as she mentioned her friends name.

Draco's eyes narrowed menacingly. "What did Longbottom do? Did he try to kiss you or something?"

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "No! No way. Would you stop jumping to those conclusions? He just…knows about us. He's not happy."

"You told him?" Draco asked looking slightly surprised.

"I think he knew anyway…I guess I just confirmed it. I'm not sure if he's angry because I'm with you, or if it's because I didn't tell him."

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment, before he shrugged lightly. "Oh well. If he doesn't forgive you it just means more of you for me." He grinned wolfishly.

Hermione didn't find that idea very funny and merely stared at the tall, lean, and undeniably attractive teen in front of her, looking hesitant. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and stepped toward her until he was only an inch away. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

"What was that for?" She asked, basking in the body heat and pheromones that seemed to be rolling off him in waves. She felt her heart rate slow down and a calming feeling wash over her.

"To get rid of that doubt I saw in your eyes." He said quietly looking over her head at the tiled wall. Hermione furrowed her brow, but didn't question him. After a moment she let out a single mirthless chuckle.

"At least no one knows about us. Other than Neville, of course." She clarified with a grim expression.

Draco nodded in agreement. "It gives us more time, though I still wonder who it was…"

"Maybe they didn't see us?" She suggested. He looked doubtful.

"Maybe…Still, we need to be more careful. I'm trying to find a place for us to go to be alone, but it's harder than you think. I've got Potter and Weasley helping me. I would ask Blaise, but he's too busy snogging Loony these days." He looked sick at the thought.

Hermione grinned, probably for the first time that day. "I think, deep down, you've got a thing for Luna," Draco looked utterly horrified, but she continued, "You know what they say. The cool guys always like the weird girls, secretly."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that why I'm with you?"

Hermione stuck her nose in the air, looking offended, which only made Draco chuckle. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

"Yep it's true." He said in a muffled voice, "I secretly liked your frizzy hair, and your buck-teeth, and your odd obsession with books, and the fact you have no social life to speak of."

"Hey!" Hermione objected. But she was silenced by Draco's lips pressing against her own, hard. He pulled away after a moment, though his hands were still around her waist holding her snugly against him.

"Wanna know a secret?" he asked teasingly wiggling his brows. Hermione thought for a moment about saying no, merely to end his game, but she was curious as to what he was going to say. She nodded her head in response.

He smirked, leaning down until his mouth was beside her ear. "I wasn't lying." He whispered.

Hermione furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"I wasn't lying about secretly liking that." He buried his head back in the crook of her neck. "Even when I was convinced I hated you, you seemed to be the only thing I could think of in the shower that would do the job just right."

Hermione was silent for a moment, trying to understand what he meant, before realisation hit her and her eyes widened comically, and she felt herself becoming slightly excited at the prospect.

"Really?" She questioned timidly.

He nodded against her. "I used to picture what that frizzy hair would looked like spread out on my pillow while I was on top of you." He nipped her neck, sending shivers through her body. "Did wonders every time."

Hermione could feel herself becoming incredibly excited at his words, and knew if she didn't leave soon, she'd most likely miss her class due to the intense urge to push him against the wall and snog him senseless.

"Lunch will be over soon. Aren't you hungry?" She asked, trying to effectively distract them both with other things.

"I'd much rather eat you," he said in her ear, huskily. Oh god. She was doomed. Images of that exact situation flashed through her mind, and an overwhelming heat flashed through her body.

"I'm hungry," she said quickly moving away. Her body screamed at her for doing such a stupid thing, but as soon as she saw Draco look up with glazed eyes and rather tight pants, she knew it was the best idea.

"Meet me tonight," he asked, though it didn't exactly sound like a question. Hermione sighed sadly.

"I can't. I've got rounds tonight," She told him regretfully. He looked just as upset as she felt.

"Damn. It's times like this I wish I were still a prefect...Maybe I'll catch you in an abandoned corridor and sneak you into a broom cupboard with me." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

The prefect and responsible student in Hermione told her that she should be appalled by the idea, but a little part of her almost hoped he would. He grinned seeing the slightly swayed expression on her face. They parted ways not long after that, missing lunch altogether and heading straight toward their next classes.

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon attempting to apologize and talk to Neville. He was barely speaking one word to her and by the end of lessons that day Hermione was thoroughly exhausted and upset; a horrible combination.

By the time she left to meet up with her partner for round, she really did hope Draco would come and steal her away.

* * *

><p>Blaise was in a broom cupboard. He didn't usually spend his time in such filthy places, but right now he couldn't care less about hygiene as he had one hand on Luna's bottom and the other on her breast. They had been meeting in this particular broom cupboard after dinner for the past few days, and Blaise had to say he never enjoyed cleaning supplies as much as he did now.<p>

"Would you like to go under my shirt?" Luna asked softly. Blaise almost burst with excitement, as he nodded. They had been going rather slowly, since Luna was inexperienced and rather nervous. He had yet to feel her body underneath her clothes, and the fact that she was about to let him made his pants tighten at the thought.

He slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft skin of her stomach. Oh merlin, even that turned him on to no end. He slowly slipped his hand up to the bottom of her breast, feeling the cotton of her bra.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, as his hand slipped underneath.

It was then that the cupboard door flew open, and Luna yelped, covering herself even though she was already decent. Blaise turned, ready to smack whoever was stupid enough to interrupt such a moment, when he saw the grinning faces of Draco, Potter and Weasley.

The only thing Blaise managed to get out at that moment was, "I fucking hate you all."

* * *

><p>After five minutes of telling his friends to sod off, and trying to stop Potter from leering at Luna in an attempt to see her breast size, Blaise had finally given in and agreed to go with them. Wherever the bloody hell that was.<p>

Luna hadn't seemed that bothered, in fact, she'd looked about ready to escape as soon as the door to the cupboard had opened. Blaise had spent another five minutes apologising to her profusely and promising to make it up to her, which only made Weasley and Potter make whipping sounds in the background. If Luna held this against him, he was going to kill his idiot friends.

"What the hell do you want anyway?" Blaise questioned angrily as they walked along the hallway. They all seemed to be following Draco somewhere, though Draco hadn't bothered to say where that somewhere was.

"Relax, Zabini. Loony might let you touch her boobs tomorrow night." Potter snickered. Blaise growled angrily, grabbing the bespectacled boy in a headlock and all but choking him.

"If you ever call her that, or talk about her boobs, or be disrespectful to her again, I'll hex your bollocks 'til they're black and blue!"

He released Potter roughly, who looked thoroughly surprised, but mostly annoyed.

"That goes for all of you," Blaise clarified. He was sick to death of people making those comments. Weasley stared on in shock, before turning to the other two.

"I think he's finally snapped."

Blaise resisted the urge to give Weasley the same treatment as Potter, and merely shoved past them. Draco was watching him curiously, and surprisingly, he didn't comment.

"I think he's just got pent up sexual frustration," Potter commented from behind. Blaise ignored them and turned to Draco who was still standing there quietly.

"What are we doing? Because I'm really not in the mood for doing pointless shit with idiots," he glanced scathingly at Potter and Weasley, who both looked offended.

"Just follow me," Draco said vaguely, moving around Blaise and continuing down the corridor. Blaise stood staring after the three as they walked away from him. He sighed moodily, and considered leaving them and heading back to the dungeons for a cold shower, which he badly needed, but instead he found himself following a few meters behind, silently cursing he and Draco's decision to sit with Potter and Weasley on the Hogwarts express 5 years ago.

After ten minutes of walking behind Draco as he seemed to search the corridors for something or someone unsuccesfully, they headed up to the library. It was then that Draco's mouth curved into a frown. Blaise looked in the direction of the blondes gaze and found Neville Longbottom standing outside the library doors with a girl. A Hufflepuff that Blaise couldn't name.

"You came up here to see Longbottom?" Blaise questioned in disbelief. Draco merely nodded before heading over to the boy.

"Longbottom," he greeted in an even tone. The boy in question turned at the sound of his name, before his eyes widened slightly in fear. The girl next to him had a similar expression, and sensing this was not exactly a social visit, she scampered off without looking back.

"Malfoy…" Neville returned the greeting, though his voice shook in hesitation. Blaise was glad he had followed now; at least he could stop the inevitable bashing of the Gryffindor. He leaned against the stone wall, waiting to intervene at the right moment.

"Do you know what annoys me?" Draco asked simply, his voice had a teasing quality, as though he were a cat baiting a mouse. Neville looked as though he were wondering about whether or not to take the bait. After a moment of Draco staring at him with a challenging expression, the boy spoke.

"Uh…no." Neville answered, hesitantly.

"I'll tell you then," Draco said brightly, though his voice still had a hint of menace. Potter and Weasley were looking on with amusement; Blaise was just wishing Draco would hurry up and get on with it.

"Gryffindors annoy me." Draco continued, "Gryffindors claim to be these big, brave, courageous, loyal people who do what's right all the time. But as soon someone does something you don't agree with, you abandon them as a lost cause."

Blaise stood off the wall, staring wide-eyed at Draco. Potter and Weasley had similar expressions. What the heck was Draco on about?

"Granger's happy with me, just ask her. Don't ruin this, or try to make her leave me by putting a guilt trip on her. I'll make sure, if you try, that it's _you_ she forgets about. Not me."

Longbottom stood staring as though he wasn't sure whether to run away or argue.

"She should've told me…" he said after a moment.

"She did tell you, and you abandoned her." Draco pointed out, "You may not agree with what she's doing, but that's no reason to hurt her."

There was tense silence for a moment, before Longbottom nodded.

"Now I don't want you to mention we ever had this talk," Draco said, not needing to mention exactly what would happen if he did. Neville shook his head.

"You do still care, don't you?" Draco asked, looking annoyed at the boys lack of enthusiasm about Granger.

Nevilles head snapped up. "Of course!" he cried, before realising he'd just yelled at the Silver Marauders. Draco chuckled.

"You know, Longbottom, people might respect you if you were a little braver like that all the time. Now, when Granger gets back to the common room tonight, and tries to apologise to you again, I want you to listen to her."

Blaise couldn't help but snicker, along with Potter and Weasley, at the tone of Draco's voice. It sounded like a father berating his son. Blaise had never heard his friend sound like this before. Perhaps Granger was influencing him in certain ways.

Neville nodded, "Alright. But I just want you to know, even if you're with her, I'm still her best friend. Long before you came along."

Draco stared at him for a moment, and Blaise wondered if that comment had angered him. After a moment, however, Draco shrugged. "That's fair enough. But friends is all it is, got that Longbottom?"

Neville nodded, much more confidently this time. That seemed to relax Draco. Neville, however, seemed intent on getting away as soon as possible.

After awkwardly side stepping the four boys, Neville left in the direction of the stairs, leaving the Silver Marauders to stand outside the library alone. Three of them were still recovering from their shock.

"What was that?" Weasley asked, scandalised, pointing weakly after Longbottom, "You just let him go! No hex, no beating, no visit to the Prefects bathroom."

Draco shrugged, looking far less concerned, "It's called an agreement. Longbottom is off limits, Granger wouldn't have it. And besides, I'm not a prefect anymore, idiot; I can't get into the bathroom."

"You went there today," Potter pointed out.

Draco sighed, looking away. "Granger didn't let me hear the password."

They stood there in silence for a moment, before it was broken by a loud whipping noise coming from Weasley's mouth. He was cracking an invisible whip in the air, obviously making fun of the fact that Draco was smitten enough with Granger to follow her rules.

"Shut up, you idiot." The blonde said angrily, "I only don't want to upset her because she doesn't like to snog when she's sad."

Blaise, Potter, and Weasley all eyed him sceptically. They knew that was not the real reason, but in an unusual act of kindness, they let it go without making fun of him. Draco obviously cared about Granger too much to comfortably admit.

"Let's go back to the dungeons," Blaise suggested, turning and heading toward the stairs. It was just past curfew, and he did not feel like getting detention. Especially, since he would need to spend a lot of time begging Luna to forgive him for his friends' behaviour in the coming days.

They headed downs stairs and were just about to enter the Entrance hall when the sound of a familiar voice hit their ears. It was Hermione. The backed up against the wall and watched as she sped past, looking annoyed.

Draco made to follow, but was held back by Weasley, as another set of footsteps passed them. Draco had to be physically restrained as he watched Theodore Nott follow Hermione up the stairs, with a satisfied smirk on his face. Blaise knew then that he would not be getting that cold shower just yet.

* * *

><p>Hermione had been neutral about the idea of patrolling the corridors that night. She had neither wanted to do it, nor had she despised the idea. It was her duty, after all. That had all changed as she met her partner in the hall. Theodore Nott. She wasn't sure why the boy annoyed her, but he did.<p>

Perhaps it was the fact that he was a Slytherin? No. Draco was a Slytherin, and while he did annoy her, she still had a constant uncontrollable urge to hug and snog him, so that wasn't it.

Maybe it was because he smirked all the time? Once again, Draco came to mind. They couldn't possibly be that similar. She comforted herself with the realisation that all Slytherins smirked. It was just what they did.

So, whatever it was that made Nott annoy her, it was something that she couldn't put her finger on, but it was definitely only a trait that he had.

The pair had spent an awkward ten minutes patrolling the grounds of the school, rather shabbily, if Hermione had to admit. She was frankly rather worried about being out in the dark, alone, with him. After they returned to the castle, Nott had spoken for the first time that night.

"So…does this job involve us snogging in the corridors? Cause I suppose if I closed my eyes hard enough…"

Hermione turned to him, sputtering indignantly. How dare he?

"No, it does not." She said firmly, and rather unnecessarily. She turned and headed up the stairs to the first floor, missing the devilish smirk on Nott's face as he followed behind.

Hermione attempted to calmly walk down the corridor, opening doors to classrooms as she went. She was struggling to keep her cool with the footsteps of the tall boy behind her. Usually she and her partners split up in order to cover each floor quicker, but Nott had been following her like a lost puppy. After another ten minutes she spun around and pinned him with a glare.

"You know, this is going to take twice as long if you just keep following me."

He shrugged. Hermione's glare deepened until her eyes were mere slits. "Why even take the job of prefect if you aren't going to do the job properly!" She hissed angrily.

The boy in question moved forward and patted her on the head rather condescendingly, as he moved past her. "You're quite cute when you're angry."

Hermione stood, gaping, unsure of what to do. It was only in the silence that she heard the sound of whispers, and scuffling from around the corner, and the specific words, "I'm going to kill him!"

She moved forward and turned the corner, only to come into contact with an empty corridor. She furrowed her brow. She could've sworn she heard someone around here…

She spun around a few times, it felt as though someone was watching her, but there was no one in sight. She reluctantly turned and headed back in the direction she'd come from, only this time she headed down a different corridor to the one Nott had gone down.

Unfortunately for Hermione, ten minutes later, she heard the familiar sound of heavy footfalls on the stone floor behind her. She sighed, before turning toward a bored looking Theodore Nott.

"Let's move onto the next floor," he said simply. Hermione merely nodded, in all honesty she had expected him to say something smart. She was glad he seemed to have given up on trying to goad her.

They had just reached the second floor landing, when Nott spoke again. "You really should do something about that hair of yours; it looks as though a bird nested in there while you were asleep."

Hermione turned around slowly, with a deathly expression on her face. "Not all of us can cut off our unruly curls, you ass."

He held up his hands defensively. "No need to get angry. You Gryffindors are hot-headed, aren't you? I wonder if the same applies in _all_ aspects."

Hermione didn't miss the slight wiggle of his brow, or the tone in which he spoke. That filthy pervert. "Are all Slytherins such idiots?" She retorted.

"Maybe those Silver Marauders, but you'd know more about that then I would, right?" He raised an eyebrow and gave her a pointed look. Hermione felt the panic rise in her.

"Why would you say that?" She said, in a pitch that was far too high. Nott stared at her like she was dumb.

"Maybe because they've been torturing you for years?" he suggested, as though it were obvious. That's what he was referring to? Oh. Hermione relaxed. She had thought for a moment he'd known about her and Draco.

"Oh," she replied weakly, "yes, well, maybe." She shrugged. Nott shook his head.

"Can we just get this over with? You're too weird to be around." He moved past her and continued walking. Hermione sputtered. How dare he call her weird?

The night continued slowly for Hermione. By the time they reached the fifth floor she was exhausted and sick of Nott. They had busted a fifth year couple in an abandoned classroom, and when she had sent them away, Nott had commented that Hermione wanted the room for her own snogging session with him. The couple had stared bug-eyed between the two before scampering off.

Funnily enough, Hermione had once again heard strange whispers and scuffling from nearby when that incident had occurred. She couldn't investigate, however, since she had been too busy berating Nott for his blatant perverseness.

She had just opened up the door to the last classroom on the fifth floor. She stuck her head in and peeked around quickly. After this they only had two more floors to do, and Hermione was desperate to get away.

"Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?" She heard Nott question from behind her. Hermione turned with furrowed brows, prepared to insult his sanity. That was until she saw how close he was standing near her.

She eyed him warily, and it seemed as though the next few seconds went in slow motion.

Nott glanced to the other end of the corridor, a motion that Hermione almost missed. He turned back to her with a devilish smirk on his face, as it moved closer and closer to her own.

Hermione's eyes widened and she backed away as far as she could, until her back hit the door she had just previously closed. "What are you doing?" She questioned warily. Nott didn't answer, but merely kept coming toward her.

"I'll hex you!" She threatened a little louder, she grabbed her wand from her robe pocket and was just about to wave it when a streak of light came from the other end of the corridor, seemingly out of nowhere.

Nott seemed to be more aware then she was, because in a swift move he had his own wand up, casting a shielding charm, causing the spell to ricochet of and into the wall. He then moved away, from her. Hermione noted that he seemed to be trying to hide his smirk under false anger. How odd...

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed. Hermione followed his gaze, and noticed with shock and dread that the Silver Marauders had appeared out of nowhere, and Draco was now striding down the corridor with a look of pure rage on his face toward the other Slytherin. The other three followed behind, looking ready to break up an inevitable scuffle.

"More like, what the fuck is this?" Draco said motioning between Nott and Hermione. His three friends shared a wary looks from behind him.

Nott crossed his arms, "What's it to you? Granger wanted a little snog and I was gonna give her one." She shrugged. Hermione sputtered, protesting loudly. Draco's eyes merely narrowed on Nott. His stance was tense.

Potter stepped in front of the blond, pushing him behind him where Blaise and Weasley each held a shoulder. Draco struggled a bit, but then settled for glaring at Nott. Hermione thought Nott would have to be stupid not to suspect something after this.

"We're Slytherins," Potter said simply, "we don't associate with mudbloods. Not even to snog them."

Hermione noticed the strained expression on Potter's face, and wondered what had caused it. She had to admit, being called a mudblood again stung.

Nott merely scoffed. "Like you can talk, _Potty_, you'd snog anything that moves."

Potter raised a brow and smirked at Granger, "'Course I would. But I'm a half-blood, the rules are different for you purebloods, aren't they?"

Nott shoved his hands in his pockets, looking bored. "I think I'll snog Granger whenever I like."

Hermione glared at him, "I wouldn't snog you, you idiot."

Nott raised a brow. "You were about to before these pricks interrupted. Speaking of which, 10 points from each of you for hexing a prefect."

Nott looked pleased as he moved past the group of scowling boys, before pausing mid-step and turning to look back. "By the way, all the Slytherins know about you're invisibility cloak. It's also pointless when you sound like a herd of Hippogryffs. I'll be upstairs if you want to continue this Granger." He sent her a wink, which caused Hermione to scowl, and continued around the corner.

"I'm gonna kill him," Draco said angrily. He continued to growl profanities at Notts back, and Hermione was surprised when Potter took that moment to stand beside her. He looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"Uh…sorry. For calling you that word, I mean," he cleared his throat, "I don't think it makes you any less important… Being a nerdy book-worm, on the other hand…" he grinned, and Hermione could tell he was trying to diffuse the tension. It was odd seeing that side of Potter; he had always seemed to one-dimensional. She wondered what had urged him to apologise.

Hermione merely nodded in acknowledgement, before turning to the others. "You were spying that whole time? With an invisibility cloak?"

Potter nodded and pulled a silky piece of cloth out of his pocket, and pulled it around his shoulders. Hermione almost yelped at the sight of a floating head. Potter grinned.

"You can't tell anyone about that, Granger," Weasley said moving forward, "it's a trade secret."

Hermione nodded, staring in awe at the cloth. She only looked away when Draco came and stood beside her, with an expression of anger still on his face.

"I think he was the one," Draco muttered.

"The one, what?" Blaise questioned from a few feet away.

"I think he was the one that saw us in the library. Did you see the way he looked before he tried to kiss her; like he knew it would get a reaction from me."

Potter and Weasley shared a sceptical look between them. "I dunno, mate," Weasley said, sounding unconvinced, "If it was him, the whole school would know about it. He'd do anything to ruin you."

Draco looked thoughtful, but still suspicious. "Maybe…it just seems odd that he's suddenly hitting on Hermione. I don't want him near her."

Hermione cleared her throat, which caused Draco to look down at her.

"I have to work with Nott. Yes, he's a pestering git, but I can handle him. I'm not some damsel in distress you need to protect, I can do it myself." She assured him, feeling the need to defend her abilities.

Draco didn't look convinced and Hermione was about to continue arguing, when Blaise stepped forward. "She's right, mate, she was fine before you came along and she'll be fine now. Granger's a tough one these days, you taught her well."

Hermione smiled, silently thanking Blaise for his intervention. Draco looked a little more relaxed.

"Granger," Draco turned to her, looking serious, "dont hesitate to hex anyone who pisses you off. Even these gits." He motioned behind him. Potter and Weasley looked worried, obviously remembering the Hogsmeade incident in which she'd hexed Potters privates.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know that. You should know that you will also be included in that, too."

Draco looked a little put-out. "Me? But I taught you everything you know. Without me you'd still be a cowardly lion."

Hermione smirked at Draco's unintentional muggle reference. "And you'll probably regret it one day, wont you?"

The other three boys snickered, and Hermione couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a look of pride flicker in Draco's eye as he looked down at her with a small smile on his face.

* * *

><p>Hermione felt much better as she finished up patrolling the 6th and 7th floors. First, because she was nowhere near Nott, and second, because she knew Draco was walking next to her under the invisibility cloak. The other three Silver Marauders had left for the dungeons, and Potter had generously lent them the cloak.<p>

As Hermione shut the door to the last classroom on the 7th floor, she almost yelped as an invisible hand grabbed her own and began pulling her in the direction of a half-empty broom cupboard. She was pulled into the darkness, and as soon as the light from Draco's wand lit the place up, he pushed off the invisibility cloak and pinned her to the wall.

He moved his own face close to hers until their noses were touching. He stared intently into her eyes with his own grey pools; Hermione never realised how deep they really were until now. Oddly enough, Hermione didn't feel uncomfortable at the intensity of it all. He didn't try to kiss her, or touch her, except for a soft hand on her cheek.

They stayed that way for ten minutes, not moving, not speaking. Eventually Draco pulled away, and placed one simple kiss on her lips. Hermione was surprised that he was leaving so soon. She'd expected him to want to snog for a bit, but he didn't. He wasnt acting odd at all, so Hermione assumed that perhaps boys did this sometimes. She didn't have exactly much experience with them.

As they parted way on the staircase, Hermione felt contented as she climbed the stairs. As she slipped into Gryffindor tower with a smile on her face, she saw Neville sitting on the seat. Surprisingly, for the first time all day, he smiled back. Hermione thanked god for whatever act of reasoning that had changed his mind.

* * *

><p>In the boys dorms, Blaise sat on his bed reading over Luna's Qubbler article, while Potter and Weasley sat on the floor playing a game of wizards chess. The Italian looked up when the door swung open, and Draco slipped inside. Something about the boy was different. He looked as though he'd been hit by a bludger. Like he'd just put together a very complicated puzzle.<p>

The blonde teen dropped onto his bed, and stared at the ceiling, ignoring the sexual comments about how he'd spent his time that Potter and Weasley were throwing at him. Blaise stared at him for a moment, trying to decipher what was different about his friend. Then it hit him.

It was an expression that he'd never seen on Draco's face before. An expression Blaise only ever saw on his own face when he thought of Luna as he brushed his teeth in the bathroom mirror.

Whether or not Draco had realised it yet, whether it had been there for a while, hidden behind careless remarks, or whether it had just appeared, Blaise didnt know. He guessed from the look on his friends face that the teen had already realised. He hadnt moved his eyes from the ceiling since he entered the room and he looked about ready to bolt, but it was difficult to run from something that was exitsing inside your own head.

There was no doubt about it. Something had come to the fore-front tonight. Something inside the blond had obviously just clicked, and he'd realised.

_Draco was in love._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Alright. This took so long to get up, and I'm sorry. I'm not actually home right now, and I'm not on my own computer, so that had something to do with it. Plus I had my exam yesterday and was freaking myself out with studying before that haha. I'm really sorry for keeping you guys waiting.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know it's nothing special, but it's progress. Thank you to all the reviewers and favourites and story alerts. I'm glad you're enjoying it.**

**Cheers my lovelies,**

**Leni**


	18. Chapter 18

_**Chapter 18**_

_...in which Draco loses something else._

* * *

><p>Weekends were always a relaxing time at Hogwarts, especially when there was a Quidditch game on. Those who normally spent their time in doors chatting away were instead outside watching the game which left the library free of noise and gossip. This was definitely one of Hermione's favourite weekends.<p>

The Quidditch game was between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Hermione, despite the fact she was a Gryffindor, had no interest in watching the game at all. She never had, and she supposed she never would. She wondered if they hated her for that, but they had never exactly shown her any kindness so she supposed it was fair treatment.

Similarly, Neville had skipped the whole event in order to help Hannah Abbot with herbology; Hermione had to admit the girl was either horrible at the subject, or merely enjoyed Neville's company. She assumed it was the latter, or at least hoped for her friends' sake. Neville's eyes seemed to light up whenever the Hufflepuff was in view, and it was hard to deny that all these study dates may just be a ruse for something else.

Hermione had become more doting on her friendship with Neville over the past few weeks, especially after their 'misunderstanding' about her relationship with Draco. She wasn't sure why he had suddenly decided to forgive her for lying to him, but she wasn't going to push him for answers. She was just happy to have him back in her life. Over the last few weeks of January, and the start of February, she and Neville had been as close as they'd ever been.

Unfortunately, Hermione couldn't say the same about all of her friendships. Ginny hadn't spoken to her for weeks, though she had given Hermione the occasional nervous smile. It was almost as if the red-head wasn't sure of how to bridge the gap that had grown between them.

Hermione was certain the anonymity Ginny showed towards her was no longer caused by the incident with Draco, but something else entirely. Ginny had just seemed different lately. As though she had discovered something that had changed her, or at least made her mature slightly.

Hermione hoped the younger girl would approach her soon, and that they could possibly recover some semblance of friendship between them. Hermione knew she would never be as close to Ginny as she could've been if it wasn't for the recent turn of events, but she did miss having a female friend to talk to.

Hermione shook her head of that thought. She _did_ have a female friend; Luna. The blonde Ravenclaw had been sitting with her and Blaise in the library just an hour ago, before she raced off to retrieve her Ravenclaw headdress to show support for her team.

Hermione felt slightly guilty that she didn't show the same enthusiasm for her own House, especially since Luna hardly had a friendly relationship with most of her housemates.

She sighed and looked over at Blaise who was scratching away at his parchment with a look of deep concentration on his face. She envied him for the fact that he was able to concentrate on a day that provided so much opportunity for peace and quiet. Hermione couldn't help but analyse everything that was going on lately.

"Why don't you watch the Quidditch games like everyone else?" Hermione asked suddenly. Blaise looked up with a distant expression on his face, before focusing on her own.

"Huh? Oh, I do occasionally. Mainly when Slytherin play," he shrugged, "I like Quidditch, but there are better things to do with my day."

Hermione nodded, and went back to her work. After a moment of silence, Blaise spoke.

"Why are you asking about Quidditch anyway? Missing Draco that much?" he teased with a small smirk.

Hermione scowled, though the blush on her cheeks ruined the affect. "No. I was just curious. Do you think Draco will want me to watch him when he plays?"

The thought hadn't occurred to her before. Draco, Potter and Weasley were down watching the game that day in order to scope out the competition, but Hermione never thought of whether it would be important for her to attend his games. Would he want her too?

Blaise shrugged easily. "Probably. He'll wanna show off for you."

Hermione nodded. That was true. Anytime in class, the hall, or the corridors when Draco did something impressive, like a complicated spell, or a smart remark, he would sneak a glance at Hermione in order to see her reaction. It seemed he liked to impress her. Though most of the time she rolled her eyes and looked away, much to his disappointment. He didn't need any more air going into that big head of his.

She would never admit that she secretly enjoyed that he tried. It gave her a little ego boost, which she desperately needed.

Hermione, in all honesty, was surprised about how easy her relationship with Draco was going. They rarely fought, except for the occasional bickering over stupid things. He was incredibly jealous of other boys speaking to her, and most of the time their fights were about him 'accidently' hexing the boys who smiled at her, or stared at her for too long.

She didn't let him get away with that, and often would punish him by not speaking to him for the day. It tended to work because she often found him waiting for her in the corridors on those nights, with an extremely reluctant apology.

They met up almost every night, in some random place in the castle. Mostly it was abandoned broom cupboards, which Hermione despised, but she knew there was no other option. Most of the time they would kiss and touch, other times they would talk. Assignments, homework, and friends were the main topics, though occasionally they would broach on the subject of their home life.

It seemed to be a subject both of them were avoiding, however, so when the topic came up they quickly diverted it elsewhere. Hermione knew that it would have to be discussed at some point, but they kept putting it off. Maybe deep down they both knew they were too different, and that discussing blood and status would only make them realise that...

"Well if it isn't the two geeks of the school."

Blaise and Hermione looked up at the same time to find Draco smirking down at them from beside their table.

The blond looked incredibly wind-swept, with his hair being held down by a beanie. His cheeks were flushed red against his pale complexion from what she assumed was the cold. He was in a bulky jacket and coat. All in all, Hermione found herself startled by how attractive he looked. It never ceased to awe her. Many times she felt inferior next to him; in fact, she often wondered what he saw in her at all.

Behind Draco, Weasley and Potter stood shivering to themselves, looking around the library as though it were a foreign and unfamiliar place. Hermione assumed that they didn't come in here often.

"If it isn't the three imbeciles of the school." Blaise shot back with a smirk, before turning to Potter and Weasley, "Have you two even been in here before?"

Draco chuckled as Potter and Weasley sputtered indignantly. Hermione assumed Blaise was spot on with his question.

"I was in here three weeks ago!" Weasley protested, looking offended. Blaise and Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "Alright...I brought a girl here to snog; but still, I was in here, wasn't I?"

Blaise merely shook his head, and turned back to his work. "How was the game anyway?" he asked after a moment.

Draco shrugged, though he looked unusually confident. "It was short and neither team had good form. Gryffindor won, though."

Blaise nodded. "Isn't that the way it is every year though? Unless another team gets an exceptional player, they're pretty much screwed against Slytherin."

Draco merely nodded slowly, and Hermione thought he looked as though he were worried or nervous. In fact, all three of them seemed to be eyeing Blaise with nervous expressions.

Potter stepped forward, looking unnaturally apprehensive. "That's actually what we wanted to talk to you about, Zabini."

Blaise looked up at the bespectacled boy with a curious expression. "What?"

"Summer's is off the team. He's failing Potions and Transfiguration, and according to the rules you can't play if you're failing classes."

Blaise leaned back and crossed his arms. "And why are you telling me this?" the Italian asked, though he already knew exactly why.

Draco sat down heavily in the chair beside Hermione. He didn't look at her, but she felt his hand rest on her leg. She liked the secret little touches they shared; nobody ever suspected a thing.

"Come on, Zabini." Draco began, earnestly, "You're more skilled than anyone else we'll find, just join the team for this year, just until we find a new Chaser to replace Summer's, or at least til he gets the right marks."

Blaise shook his head. "No way, mate. I just finished telling Hermione what a waste of time Quidditch is. There's no way I'm joining the team."

Weasley slammed his hands down on the table, looking thoroughly annoyed. Hermione jumped at the action, but felt Draco grip her hand tightly under the table.

"Look Zabini," the red-head began, almost in a growl, "This isn't just about Quidditch. We're your mates. Do us a bloody favour! You've got the best broom in the world, you've got the skills, and you'll work well in the team. Just do it!"

Blaise eyed Weasley for a moment, before turning to Draco. "Why can't you just hold try-outs and find someone else?"

Draco sighed tiredly. "Because no one's as good as you. And I don't want _certain people_ trying out."

"You mean Nott?" Blaise questioned.

Draco sat silently for a moment, and Hermione knew the conversation was no longer solely based around Quidditch.

"Maybe." The blond replied vaguely. Blaise chuckled mirthlessly.

"See? I might join the team if it wasn't so exclusive. I'd like to get in on skill, not because _you_ think I'm the best or because we're friends. You could have the best team around if you just stopped being picky."

"We had try-outs. I gave the positions to those who were good enough." Draco said, shrugging easily. Blaise cocked his head to the side and looked at his friend sceptically.

"Nott tried out, didn't he? He's better then Summers and Cauldwell, yet you still didn't let him join."

Draco's jaw tightened; a sign that he was feeling cornered and defensive. "I told you why I didn't let him join. He's not a team player."

Blaise shook his head disbelievingly. "So it has nothing to do with Granger, now? If he hadn't been hitting on Hermione, you'd have probably let him join right now, at least out of desperation. But now that he keeps hitting on Hermione, you won't even consider it."

"I'd never consider it. He's a wanker and he's not joining my team," Draco shot back quickly. Blaise smirked. Draco had admitted what he had wanted him to. Blaise didn't want to join the team at all, but especially not if he only got in because he was friends with the Captain.

"Sorry, mate, not interested."

Draco leaned back glaring at the Italian. Hermione knew that they would get over this argument, and felt slightly bad for Draco and his team, but she also respected Blaise for not giving in to an unfair proposition.

It was true what they said about Nott. Over the past few weeks he had become insufferable. Often times when they did rounds together, he would make perverted comments, and other times in classes they shared he would send her seductive winks. He was not worried about being subtle either, and in fact, he seemed to intentionally do things in front of people. Hermione could not count the number of rumours that had spread about her and Nott over the past few weeks. No matter how many times she berated him, or threatened him with the nastiest of hexes, he didn't stop.

But was that really a reason to let the Slytherin Quidditch team suffer? Especially when Nott was obviously a good player?

"Maybe you could have try-outs," Hermione began, commanding the attention of the four boys, "and have the team vote on who they want; instead of just the captain. That way if you got chosen Blaise, you could be certain it wasn't because of Draco."

The boys looked thoughtful for a moment, before Blaise scoffed. "Draco would probably just tell them to vote for me."

The blonde shook his head, "I wouldn't. Come on, mate, you can't get any fairer than that."

Blaise eyed his friends for a moment. The silliest thing you could do was assume a Slytherin would be fair, however, if he did a horrible job during try-outs, he wouldn't exactly have to worry, would he?

"Fine," the Italian said, shrugging, "I'll try out, as long as you open them up to everyone."

Draco looked apprehensive, but nodded. Hermione knew by everyone, Blaise meant Nott as well. Obviously Blaise didn't see the motivation behind Draco's hatred for Nott. Hermione knew it had something to do with Quidditch, and now her, but was that really enough to judge the boy on?

Draco sighed, before muttering, "Fine."

Hermione wondered if he would regret it.

* * *

><p>The group split up from the library some minutes later. Hermione headed toward the seventh floor to put her things away; Potter, Weasley and Draco headed toward the kitchen for an afternoon snack, and Blaise headed downstairs to find Luna.<p>

It was on this trip downstairs that Blaise ran into a flush-faced Ginny Weasley, who was heading upstairs still in her Quidditch gear. A few months ago, the sight of Ginny in her tight Quidditch clothes, looking so mussed would have made his pants tighten. Right now, however, he just wanted to avoid her.

He would have to be blind or stupid to miss the strange looks Ginny had been giving him lately. In the corridors she was always close-by, in the Great hall he often caught her looking away swiftly as his gaze crossed hers. It made him incredibly uncomfortable to think that perhaps Ginny had finally began to have some feelings for him. Unfortunately for her, the ones he had once had so strongly for her were gone, and the only person he thought about was Luna, his eccentric, but charming Ravenclaw.

He hoped that maybe he could slip past the Gryffindor without a fuss, but she seemed to catch his eye, and brighten considerably.

"Blaise!" She greeted, with a hint of surprise in her voice, "fancy catching you here."

Blaise nodded in greeted, but didn't halt in his steps. "Weasley," he greeted cordially.

He heard her laugh nervously from behind, and didn't miss the flash of hurt across her face. "Why so cold?" She questioned in jest, though he could see she really was interested in his demeanour toward her.

He sighed inwardly, and paused in his steps. "Probably the same reason you've been so cold to Hermione," he said shrugging. The half-smile on her face fell, and she stared at him openly with shock.

"Hermione's fine. She could always talk to me if she wanted," she tried to explain, futilely.

"I suppose, but why would she? She thinks you hate her for the fact that Draco doesn't want you."

He saw a flicker of hurt and anger in her eyes, but her face stayed blank. "It doesn't matter though, she rejected him, so she could always come to me and talk."

Blaise laughed mirthlessly, "You need to open your eyes, Ginny. You're so focused on your own problems that you don't even care for those who could be your real friends. Hermione's a nice girl, but not talking to her just because you're jealous, or whatever, is ridiculous. I can only imagine how you would've reacted if instead she'd told you she hadn't rejected him. What would you have done? Would you have back-stabbed her? Told everyone? Made up lies about her?"

H was trying to make the situation sound hypothetical, but it was funny how it was the exact truth.

"I wouldn't have done that!" Ginny interrupted earnestly, "So what, I'm a little self-centred, and I was jealous. It doesn't make me a bad person. I like Hermione. She's nice, really. I just had trouble accepting the fact that she was better than me. That he'd prefer her over me."

"That's exactly why he would. She doesn't think so highly of herself that she's constantly worried about falling off a pedestal. She's just Hermione. Luna's just Luna. They're two girls I admire because they aren't trying to make everyone like them or love them."

Ginny was silent for a moment, looking apprehensive. "What if I told you that I liked you? I know you liked me at one point, I just never considered it because all I could think about was Draco...we'd be good together, don't you think?"

Blaise stared at her incredulously. How did the conversation get here? "No, I don't think that. I love Luna. That's it. I don't think you know what it is to really feel something for somebody. You just want people to want you."

Ginny didn't look discouraged at all, but merely more determined. "I know I've always liked you. We got along well; maybe I only just realised it. Why couldn't that go further?"

Blaise stared at her as though she had lost it. "Because I'm with Luna, and she's the one I want. Stop deluding yourself, Weasley."

His reversion back into his cold demeanour signalled the end of his patience, and the end of the conversation.

With that he turned and continued down the stairs, much more determined to find Luna. He felt wrong even speaking about such things with Ginny, almost like he had betrayed the girl he loved.

"I think you'll realise it eventually," he heard Ginny call softly from behind him. He didn't spare a look back. Whatever she was hoping he'd realise, was no longer there.

* * *

><p>Hermione strolled down toward the portrait that hid the kitchens in order to meet up with Draco for a snack. She had gotten quite used to using the kitchens for snacks in between classes and meals, and they often spent time there together. She had just rounded the corner into the corridor when she ran into a tall muscular form. She inwardly groaned, expecting to see the glaring face of a nameless Slytherin looking down at her.<p>

When she looked up, however, she saw the smirking face of Theodore Nott looking down at her instead. She was sure this was worse. Nameless Slytherins she could handle, Nott was beyond the realm of that.

"Excuse me," she said in a stiff voice as she went to move around him. He stepped back and blocked her path, crossing his arms.

"And here I thought you were coming to see me," he commented in mock sadness. Hermione eyed him scathingly.

"Obviously not, now move."

"You're quite aggressive at times Granger, I've only ever been nice to you," he looked down at her sincerely. Hermione could see the smirk twitching at the side of his mouth. She narrowed her eyes menacingly.

"I didn't know being perverted was 'nice'," she commented harshly, "it must just be a Slytherin trait."

She thought of Potter and Weasley, and how they had once been, and still were toward her sometimes. The only Slytherin that was completely non-perverted was Blaise. She often wondered if he was sorted into the right house, he seemed like he belonged in Ravenclaw.

"I wasn't aware you had lots of experience with Slytherins?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow. Hermione inwardly cursed, but attempted to keep a cool and calm demeanour.

"It's not exactly a hard trait to notice," she said with a shrug. He eyed her for a moment, looking rather sceptical.

"If you say so," he conceded, "so Potter and Weasley, which one of them are you shagging?"

Hermione nearly choked on her own voice she was so taken aback by the abrupt question. "Neither! Why ask such a stupid question?" She hissed angrily.

"So it's Zabini, then?" he continued, ignoring her growl of annoyance, "I should admit, he's got the most sense out of that group. Still a wanker, though."

"No, I am _not_ shagging him, either," she protested, attempting to move around the road block that was his body, "now _move_."

"Maybe it's Malfoy..."

Hermione froze, not at the name that was spoken, but at the pointed look Nott gave her as he said it. She stared at him for a moment, a sincere expression of fear on her face, though he might've taken it as surprise. She hoped he would.

"As if I would go anywhere near that sod," she said haughtily, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible. Nott raised an eyebrow.

"He seems to just appear out of the blue when you're around, doesn't he?"

"No, he doesn't," Hermione protested. She wasn't sure why she was bothering to argue with Nott, but she just needed to make him believe that nothing was going on with her and Draco. She didn't want their secret to be in danger again.

"Pretty sure he does. Maybe he's secretly in love with you. He certainly couldn't yell that from the rooftops could he? Malfoy and a mudblood," Hermione flinched, "what would his daddy say?"

"His _daddy_ would say mind your own fucking business."

Hermione inwardly groaned as from the shadows behind her and Nott, Draco appeared with a murderous expression on his face, flanked by Potter and Weasley.

"What a coincidence!" Nott said sarcastically, looking pointedly at Hermione. "What was it that we were just talking about?"

Hermione bit her lip nervously and looked at her feet. Typical that Draco would show up at this particular moment.

"Talking to Granger?" Malfoy questioned harshly, "Have some standards, mate."

Nott laughed mirthlessly.

"Funny that, we were actually just talking about your lack of standards. Shagging Granger and all, huh?"

Draco's eyes flicked to Hermione for a moment, and he licked his lips as though he were contemplating his next move. Hermione knew what was coming before he even looked away.

"Do you honestly think I'd touch a disgusting mudblood like her? Even if she was a Pureblood, she's still pathetic."

And there he was. The old Draco Malfoy. He was so could at pretending that Hermione almost forgot all that had passed over the last few months, as if they were still enemies.

Hermione felt her stomach get heavy at his words, and despite the fact she knew they were for show, she still felt the sting of tears at her eyes. But she was determined not to cry, it would only make things worse.

Nott eyed Hermione for a moment, taking in her facial expression. It was the first time Hermione had seen his face voice of a smirk or sneer. However, a devilish grin appeared only a second later as he turned toward Draco.

"In that case you won't mind if I try?" he moved toward Hermione and placed a heavy arm around her shoulder. She scoffed and tried to shrug him off, but he held tight.

Hermione could see Draco's cheeks growing red with anger, and his fists clench tight. She also caught the subtle movement of Weasley as he edged in front of the teen, obviously silently warning to hold off on killing Nott.

"I really do feel sorry for you, mate," Nott continued, his voice had a shit-stirring quality to it, "see, you're so caught up on blood status, that you miss all the girls who are gorgeous but out of your league. Guess it leaves all the more for me."

Hermione pulled away, nearly tripping as the weight of Nott's arm slipped off her shoulders. She still felt weak at Draco's previous words; all she wanted was to be alone.

"Like I'd touch you. Like I'd touch _either_ of you," The line was delivered with such conviction that she wasn't surprised to see a flicker of shock in Draco's eyes. She almost felt convinced of her words herself.

She turned and headed away from the group, and as soon as she was out of sight of the boys, she began racing up the staircase as fast as she could, unsure of where she was even going, but just needing to go somewhere else.

Why did she have to let Draco's words get to her so much? She knew he didn't mean them, but they still stung. They were like salt rubbed on an old wound that she'd forgotten about, only to realise it was still there, and still as prominent as it'd ever been.

Hermione Granger would always be a mudblood, no matter how smart or gifted with magic she was. The thing was, she'd never known it was a bad thing until Draco Malfoy had come along.

It's funny how one person can crush you and lift you up at the same time. It was also frightening to Hermione that she'd found that person; someone who had enough of her to break her into tiny pieces, and put her back together at the same time.

Hermione found herself on the seventh floor, by the time her head caught up with her body's movements. She looked around herself; she was in a corridor that she'd rarely gone down before, only to patrol.

She wiped her face and felt wetness on her cheeks. Damnit. She hadn't wanted to cry, and hadn't even realised she was. Her face was probably red and blotchy, she couldn't walk into the common room looking like this, everyone would stare.

She sighed as she walked along the corridor, wiping her face with her hand. She wished there was a bathroom on the seventh floor, other than the one in the girls dorm.

It was then that she heard an odd scraping sound, like concrete on concrete. She jumped back from the wall as she saw a large decorated door appear, seemingly, from out of nowhere. She eyed the opening for a moment, before hesitantly stepping forward and gripping the handle.

She pushed open the door, expecting to find treasures and artefacts of Hogwarts past. She could feel her heart thrumming in her chest from excitement. Unfortunately, as the door swung open, Hermione came face to face with a small washroom, fitted with a sink and mirror.

She frowned. Why the heck would someone need a door to appear just for a washroom. Maybe if it was a room filled with books it might be better. Hermione jumped as the room started to shake, and instead of a sink and mirror reflecting her shocked expression back at her, she was staring at was seemed like hundred of ceiling high shelves filled to the ceiling with books.

Hermione nearly fainted on the spot from excitement, but managed to withhold the urge as she stepped forward a few feet and hesitantly grabbed one of the books of the shelf. It was a book she'd seen in Flourish and Blotts that summer, it had been withheld in a glass class, and unless you had 500 Galleons you were unable to lay a finger on it.

Hermione ran her hand down the spine, how the heck did this book get here? She had searched the library up and down for it, but it seemed to be in this room all along. She looked around for a seat, but found none. She suddenly yelped as a chair appeared beneath her tripping her off her feet and onto a soft cushioned arm chair.

She jumped off the seat quickly and stared at it. Could this room make things appear at will?

She closed her eyes and thought of her lounge room at home. When she opened them again, she was facing the familiar roaring fireplace; comfortable leather couches and dim lighting of the room she'd seen in her house many times.

She stood there, perplexed. This was magic; _real_ magic. She had discovered one of Hogwarts secrets, she was sure of it. Certainly if there was a room here that let anything appear with just a thought, it would be popular with everyone.

She couldn't help but forget her previous distress, as an almost uncontrollable grin adorned her face.

Hermione had discovered the Room of Requirement.

* * *

><p>"Blaise?"<p>

The teen in question looked up into the electric blue eyes of his girlfriend. She smiled softly at him.

"You seem incredibly distracted."

He sighed. It was true, his mind had been elsewhere today, which was definitely unusual for him. Normally when he and Luna sat out by the black lake, doused in warming charms, he was monumentally distracted by her mere presence.

Today, however, he had other things on his mind.

One of those things was the fact that he'd agreed to try-out for the Slytherin Quidditch team. He had told Luna about this as soon as they'd met up. She'd told him if he agreed to it, he should try his best. Somehow, she had know he was planning on throwing the game in order to not be picked. He wasn't sure to be impressed or annoyed that she had guessed such a thing. Either way, he could not disappoint Luna, and so he'd promised to try his hardest at the try-outs.

Unfortunately, for him that meant that there was no doubt he'd make the team. Blaise was modest, but he knew he was an equal match for Draco at Quidditch, therefore he was definitely competition.

The other issue on his mind was his brief run-in with Ginny. She had proclaimed that she 'liked him'. Whatever that was supposed to mean. Blaise liked plenty of people, just platonically; no matter how many times he tried to deny the fact, it was unavoidable. Ginny seemed to be harbouring some irrational crush on him.

The ironic thing was, a few months ago Blaise would have been over the moon at such a confession from the crimson-haired Gryffindor, but right now, it unnerved him.

He'd seen Ginny's ability to get what she wanted. Draco, for one thing, despite the fact it was brief. A friendship with Hermione was another. Neither teen was in anyway stupid, but they seemed to have been taken in by Ginny.

Blaise, despite the fact he loved Luna and could not ever picture himself with Ginny, was not confident in his abilities. In all honesty, he was worried that Ginny would somehow manipulate him, or even worse, Luna, to get what she wanted.

Was she really that bad? She had terminated her friendship with Hermione, and nearly sabotaged Draco's chances with the older Gryffindor out of what she seemed to think were valid reasons. Perhaps she really was a Slytherin at heart; perhaps she was really just that self-absorbed.

The fact that the girl had only just decided to return the feelings Blaise once held for her was indication of the latter. Draco was not showing signs of returning her feelings, so perhaps she had given up on him and gone for the next best thing: Blaise.

Perhaps she thought that because he used to have rather strong feelings for her that there was a chance they would come back if she showed interest?

Blaise wasn't sure, but he was worried none-the-less.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Luna said gently from next to him. They were leaning with their backs against one of the large rocks that littered the shore of the Black Lake.

Blaise looked at her distractedly, only to realised he had never answered her previous comment. He felt a swell of guilt in his stomach. He hated keeping things from Luna, but he didn't want to hurt her. As far as he knew, Ginny was one of the only girls, other than Hermione, who spoke to her.

This wouldn't seem like such a big thing, but Luna had confided to him once that she often sat alone in class, except for those she shared with Ginny, when the red-head would sit next to her despite the scoffs she received from her other friends.

Would it be selfish of him to ruin the rare semblance of friendship Luna had, because he assumed that Ginny Weasley was a manipulative person?

One look at Luna told him he couldn't do that. He couldn't hurt her. He wouldn't hurt her.

"I'm fine, love," he assured her as he pulled her close and her head rested on his shoulder. He hoped it would be.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke feeling stiff and sore in her back and bum. She stretched slightly, and felt a satisfying crack from her bones. This definitely wasn't her bed she'd slept in. It could definitely be more comfortable.<p>

As if reading her thoughts, the chair beneath her disappeared, and she yelped as she fell into a warm, soft bed. She grumbled to herself as she sat up. That could get annoying.

Scattered all around her were dozens of books. She'd become so overwhelmed at the possibility of reading books she'd never normally be able to lay her hands on that she'd plucked piles off the shelves that had appeared and had cursed herself for the fact she didn't have 16 pairs of eyes and ten pairs of hands in order to get through them all.

As Hermione sat up in her bed, she couldn't help but wonder what time it was and how long she'd been asleep there. On cue, a clock appeared on the wall in front of her, and she almost fell out of her seat as she saw the little hand pointed at the '8'.

She'd been in here for hours. _The whole day_. Crap.

She lifted herself out of the bed and attempted to flatten some of the crinkles in her robes. It was useless. However, not as useless as trying to flatten the fluff-ball that was now her hair. She sighed miserably; at least most people would be down at dinner, so they wouldn't see her walking to the common room looking like a dishevelled sheep.

She exited the large doors of the room she'd just found, and headed left toward the stairs, and essentially the Fat Ladies portrait. She passed a few students on her way there as they headed down to the hall; all of them gave her odd looks, mostly aimed at her hair. Damn them.

She was more than relieved when she reached the safe confines of her dorm, and headed into the bathroom to fix her hair before she headed down to dinner.

Unfortunately the bathroom was occupied by one of her least favourite people, Lavender. The blonde didn't bother hiding her snort at Hermione's hair as she entered.

"Rough night, Hermione?" Lavender asked sweetly, as she preened in the mirror, "What did I tell you? No one buys the pumpkin if they're getting the pumpkin juice for free."

Hermione inwardly growled, resisting the urge to hex the girl next to her, and instead picked up her wand and began waving it in circles above her head.

"It's only 8 o'clock, Lavender, what I do with my time is none of your business. _I _at least manage to make it back to my dorm every night, don't I?"

The blondes face reddened, despite her smug smile. "Not last night. Its eight o'clock _in the morning_, Hermione. You really must have been busy."

Hermione went to scoff at the girl; muggle stereotypes of 'dumb blondes' were coming to mind. That is until she noticed the streak of sunlight across the other girl's blush-covered cheeks. She turned around and eyed the window behind them with disorientation.

It was indeed too light to be 8pm. Despite the clouds and overcast weather outside, she could still tell it was day time. Hermione had spent a whole day and night in the room of requirement reading. She really did have a problem.

She heard Lavender scoff again, as she left the bathroom. Hermione decided she may as well have a shower if it was morning; at least that would tame her hair a little more.

As she gathered her things and climbed into the shower, she couldn't help the evil grin that came to her face. Draco was probably freaking out over her disappearance; at least that would be sufficient punishment for his behaviour yesterday.

Sometimes Hermione thought she was spending far too much time with Slytherins.

* * *

><p>"You need to relax and stop tapping your bloody foot," Weasley grumbled in between bites of his breakfast. Draco ignored the complaint and continued on with the rhythmic tapping.<p>

"It's funny," Potter commented casually, looking thoughtful, "I never pictured Malfoy to be so whipped by a girl. Especially Granger."

The tapping of Malfoy's foot stopped momentarily, and was followed by a loud crack, in which Potter hissed and grabbed his shin in pain.

"Oi, you git! It's true though!"

Draco scowled at the raven haired boy and merely turned his attention back to the door.

Blaise sat quietly watching the interaction with a small smile. It amused him to see Draco so out of sorts. While it might seem like an odd thing to be amused about, Blaise had only ever seen his friend lose his 'couldn't-care-less' demeanour over Hermione. It was rather funny to witness.

With a miserable sigh, Draco stood. "I've gotta go pin this notice for try-outs on the board in the entrance hall," he said, gripping a large piece of parchment, "if you see Granger, tell her I'm gonna kill her when I see her next."

Weasley and Potter snorted. "More like you're going to get on your hands and knees and beg for forgiveness." Weasley said with a chuckle.

Blaise was aware of the events of yesterday afternoon between Nott and his friends; he was also informed about the rather harsh words that Draco had spoken about Hermione in order to quell Nott's suspicions.

Blaise hadn't even needed to lecture his friend, he already knew he'd screwed up, considering they hadn't seen Hermione since. Blaise knew that despite his cool outward appearance, Draco was most likely panicking inside. He probably thought Hermione would never speak to him again; the chances of him actually getting on his hands and knees and begging for forgiveness, whether he wanted to admit it or not, were rather possible.

Draco once again scowled at them, before striding toward the hall doors and disappearing out of sight.

"He's totally whipped," Potter commented with a smirk. The three friends shared a laugh at the expense of their friend, who was learning what it was like to love something and have absolutely no control of it.

* * *

><p>Hermione felt a lot fresher as she skipped down the stairs toward the Great hall after her shower. She wasn't sure why she was in such a good mood today; if anything it should be the complete opposite. Draco had insulted her blood (even if it was for show), Lavender Brown had basically called her a whore, and her hair was still looking a little too frizzy for her liking.<p>

Hermione, however, felt good. She couldn't help but feel that it had something to do with her discovery of the room on the seventh floor. It was nice to know she had discovered a secret that none of those sneaky Silver Marauders managed to find. She felt an intense urge to brag about it to Potter and Weasley, just to rub it in their faces.

It was with a grin at this thought that she found herself in the Entrance hall, suddenly face to face with an extremely toned chest. She inclined her head vertically a few inches and realised that the chest belonged to none other than her boyfriend.

She made an odd face at that. It was weird referring to him as her boyfriend.

"Where the hell have you been, woman?" The blonde hissed angrily. It was only then that Hermione noted the furrowed brows, flared nostrils and slightly pink cheeks that indicated his anger.

It was also then that Hermione realised he'd called her 'woman'. She sputtered indignantly, trying to inconspicuously raise herself on her toes in order to match his height.

"Hey! I may be a woman, but I do have a name, you Neanderthal cave-man!"

Draco looked slightly shocked for a moment at her insult before recovering. "Where have you been, _Hermione_?"

She crossed her arms. "None of your business."

Draco growled and grabbed her around the waist before carrying her off into an alcove, ignoring her struggles, and only hissing slightly at a well aimed kick to the shin.

"You ass!" Hermione cried, attempting to straighten her uniform that he'd so roughly grabbed and wrinkled. Draco merely sighed and leaned against the wall.

"I'm...sorry," he said with a pained expression on his face. Hermione knew it had to do with his difficulty in admitting his faults. She allowed him to continue, knowing if she interrupted, he'd likely lose his courage.

"I shouldn't have called you that word, but I know you know I didn't mean it...Things are just hard. If we didn't have to hide I would have handled everything differently. You shouldn't let that word insult you anymore, you should take it as a compliment. Your bloods not pure, but you're a hell of a lot smarter than most of the people round here. Except for me, of course."

He smirked at her, and Hermione knew he was trying to alleviate the awkwardness he felt at admitting such a thing. She still couldn't help but have her doubts.

"If it really doesn't matter, why do you use it as an insult whenever you need to cover for us? Couldn't you just, I don't know, point out how frizzy my hair is? Why does it have to be my blood, something I can't change, that is wrong about me?"

He looked down for a moment, before shoving his hands in his pockets. "Because there's nothing else wrong with you, at all. That's the only thing, as a pureblood, I ever had to pick on you for. It's really nothing, but we try to make it into something, because when someone like you comes along. Someone who succeeds at everything, it's all we've got, isn't it?"

She was surprised at how open he was about the whole thing. Draco was usually very uncomfortable about admitting such weaknesses.

"It doesn't matter?" It surprised her how child-like and vulnerable her own voice sounded. She'd never really needed reassurance before.

Draco sighed, looking as though he were trying to find the best response. "No...it doesn't matter."

It was a lie, they both knew it. But right now, it was what she needed to hear. She needed to hear that she would be an equal even with her blood, when in reality it was the one thing that was stopping that from happening. In that moment, she appreciated Draco for giving her at least a small piece of hope, even if it was likely to be dashed with reality very soon.

Hermione was silent for a moment, before remembering one of Draco's previous comments from just moments before. She smirked.

"If you're so smart, why is it that I discovered something that you haven't yet?"

She couldn't help but act haughty. This might be the only time she could brag, and hell was she going to brag.

He furrowed his brow, "What do you mean?"

"I discovered a secret of Hogwarts," she boasted proudly.

"Bullshit." Draco remarked, he looked a little put out, "The Marauders have discovered all the secrets of Hogwarts, Granger. We probably already found whatever it is you think you did." He said simply, but quite assuredly. Hermione grinned at his cockiness.

"So you've found a room on the seventh floor that makes things appear and disappear at will, whenever you need or want them?" She questioned with a raised brow. Draco's eyebrows shot up, and he looked impressed.

"I don't believe you." He said, before standing up straight, "And you still haven't answered my question; where were you all yesterday?"

Hermione sighed. "I was in the room all day. A big library appeared and I got...distracted." She admitted with a slight blush.

"Typical," she heard him comment under his breath. She elbowed him in the side for that.

"Do you want to see it or not?" She asked impatiently. After recovering from his injury to his ribs, Draco nodded.

* * *

><p>"So where's the door?" Draco questioned 15 minutes later as they stood in the corridor on the 7th floor. They'd been forced to split up a few times to avoid students on their way down to breakfast, but lucky for them, no one seemed to come down this corridor, for they assumed it held nothing of interest. How wrong they were.<p>

Hermione looked around deep in concentration. Where exactly had she been standing when that door had appeared? Her eyes fell on a rather odd tapestry of a troll ballet. That was it! She'd been standing in front of that tapestry, and the door had appeared on the other side.

She grabbed Draco's arm, perhaps a little too forcefully and dragged him a few feet down to stand in front of the artwork.

"Here is where the door should appear. Now think of something you really need, or want. I'm not one hundred percent sure how it works. Just try it." She prodded at his uncertain expression.

Draco sighed tiredly, before closing his eyes and looking deep in concentration. Seconds later there was a small rumbling sound and the door that had appeared in front of her yesterday, was once again there.

Draco opened his eyes at the odd noise, and Hermione almost chuckled at his gaping expression.

"Do you believe me yet?" She questioned haughtily. He merely nodded slowly, before heading toward the door handle.

They entered the room and Hermione could barely contain her scoff. It was not like the library that had appeared the day before, but instead they stood in a room with dim lighting, the only illumination coming from the large wood fire that sat at the front of a rather large four poster bed.

"Really?" Hermione asked, turning to eye him with an unimpressed expression. He shrugged, but she didn't miss the smirk on his face.

"I can't believe we didn't know about this place. I can't believe you found it before us! What an insult."

"Hey!" Hermione sputtered, "I'm not surprised I found it before you. You boys are so self-absorbed I'm surprised you even know what's going on around you." She crossed her arms and looked pointedly away.

"I didn't mean it like that," she ignored him, "Hermione," she continued to ignore him, "Hermione!" He was becoming more impatient, but still she didn't acknowledge him. "For Merlins sake, Granger!"

She meant to continue ignoring him, but instead she yelped as for the second time that day, Draco picked her up as though she were a rag doll, and dropped her unceremoniously onto the four poster bed that sat in the middle of the room.

She was about to berate him for his man-handling, when she saw him shrugging off his robe, and then untucking his white shirt, before shrugging that off as well. All thoughts of anger left her, and all she could do was watch him, feeling a tingle of excitement in her lower belly. She didn't even notice the satisfied smirk he wore, knowing the effect he had on her.

She was ripped from her daze when he began moving across the bed toward her. "What are you doing?" She asked, a little too high pitched. Draco Malfoy, half naked on a bed, was an extremely nerve-wrecking, though exciting, situation.

He ignored her as he moved so close to her that she could feel the body heat coming off his bare torso. Instead of lunging at her like she expected, he merely pulled her toward him, her back to his chest, and held her close to him.

"It's Sunday. We have this room all too ourselves. I don't know about you, but I didn't get too much sleep last night because someone disappeared for the day. I-," he stopped his sentence abruptly there, and Hermione had to control herself not to prod him to continue. She knew he wouldn't.

Instead he held her tighter, so close that she wondered if any part of them weren't touching at that point.

Hermione sighed. It was certainly comfortable, and she was glad he seemed to understand her boundaries, but she wished he had at least tried _something_. Maybe just a bit of touching...no doubt she was ready for that.

She held her breath for a moment, wondering what Draco's reaction to her next movement would be. With all the courage she could muster, she wiggled her bum against him.

Almost as if he had no control of his actions, she heard a guttural groan escape his throat, and he grinded against her backside, hard. Nope, it wasn't that hard, _he_ was just hard. Hermione felt another rush of excitement hit her in the stomach.

"Hermione," she heard his whispered groan beside her ear. It sounded desperate, pained and animalistic. She wiggled again.

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

She moved her hand between them, and tentatively rubbed her hand on his hardness. He bucked against her, attempting to prolong the sensation. Hopefully that answered his question.

"I want to...try something," she said quietly. She hoped her voice didn't portray her nerves. She'd never done anything before, besides kissing and the occasional touch, and they had all been with Draco. She was ready for more, she _needed_ more. The throbbing feeling in her knickers was enough to inform her of that.

She felt Draco's breath on her neck, before his tongue and mouth replaced it. The warm feeling and small nips left Hermione wriggling against him even more. He only pulled her closer to him, his hands running all over her breast, legs, stomach- wherever they could reach.

When his mouth latched onto the lobe of her ear, she gasped, and felt a sudden rush of moistness in her underwear. She could feel her eyes glazing over with desire, and she didn't have to look at Draco to know his eyes would hold a similar expression.

"Please," she begged, as he ground against her. His hardness against her bottom, coupled with his warm breath and kisses on her ear and neck were sending her beyond the realm of control. Beyond the realm of dignity. She just needed him, and she needed him _now_, even if she had to beg.

"What do you want?" he asked huskily. She wondered if he just wanted her to show her need, or if he really was unsure of how far she wanted to go.

Instead of speaking, she grabbed his hand with her own and moved it down her stomach. Understanding her intentions he continued on without prompt, into her underwear. He cupped her completely, massaging slightly, as they both let out similar gasps.

"You're so wet," he murmured. Hermione could hear the shake of desire in his voice, and felt another rush of excitement hit her, only serving to moisten her panties more.

His hand moved toward her clit, and two fingers began to rub circles around the sensitive area. She moaned and ground against his hand in desperate need to increase the friction. He groaned as he himself continued to move against her.

In a moment of wanton lust, Hermione reached behind her and slid her hand into Draco's pants, underneath his underwear, and tentatively rubbed his length. It was smooth and hard, and excitingly large. She wondered for a moment whether it would ever fit inside her.

Draco reacted with a hiss, and his movements on her clit fastened, causing Hermione's head to spin with pleasure.

They continued their rhythmic movements until Hermione's felt the most amazing sensation overcome her. Her stomach tightened, her muscles clenched and she felt waves of warmth and tingles shooting throughout her body, causing her to moan at the feeling.

Her movements on Draco's length quickened. She didn't know if it would work, but she wanted to bring him with her; wanted him to feel what she was feeling. It seemed her movements were affecting because with a guttural groan, she felt Draco buck against her hand once more before a warm liquid covered it.

They lay motionless, the only sounds being their rasping breath. After a moment, she felt Draco shift, and turned to look at him curiously.

"Cleaning up," he explained, as he waved his wand silently. Hermione's hand was no longer covered in his warm sticky liquid, and removed it from his pants with a flushed face, her awkwardness finally catching up with her.

"Don't be embarrassed. I've seen you at your most uninhibited now," he said, settling back in behind her, "Rather loud, too."

Hermione lay staring ahead in horror. It was then that she heard a chuckle from behind her.

"Just relax." She could hear the smile in his voice as he said it. And so she did relax, and in that moment, nothing felt more right than being there with him.

* * *

><p>The wind ripped through the trees on the Hogwarts grounds, causing loose branches and twigs to be carried away and broken from their limbs. Blaise cringed at the image of those twigs as broomsticks, which only made him more reluctant to participate in the Slytherin Quidditch tryouts.<p>

It had been a week since Draco had announced the tryouts for the Chaser position, and Blaise was fairly surprised at the amount of people who had turned up, not only to watch, but to try out. There were a total of 12 Slytherin's trying out for Chaser. They ranged from third years, to seventh years. One of the most disappointing faces, considering Draco's reaction, was Theodore Nott, who had turned up in full Quidditch gear as though he had already made the team.

Blaise had spent a good ten minutes trying to control the Captain's temper by assuring him that he would beat Nott. Blaise was now certain that he was resigned to joining the Quidditch team, unless of course the weather killed him first.

He turned to Draco, who was busy glaring holes in the back of Nott's head. The other boy was busy warming up, while grinning smugly.

"Are you sure this is the right weather for try-outs?" Blaise asked Draco hesitantly, "I mean, this wind could rip someone off their broom, mate."

Draco turned to him, and shrugged. "It'll give a better indication of who deserves a spot on the team."

Blaise sighed miserably but didn't argue further; instead he followed Nott's lead and began stretching his limbs. Five minutes later, Draco called them all to attention.

"Alright. We'll have a lap around the pitch. I'll be cutting those who aren't quick enough. Now, on the count of three. One, two, three!"

When the countdown ended, all twelve of the Slytherins raced off as quickly as possible. Blaise noticed, much to his chagrin, that he was first, followed closely by Nott. They finished the laps in under a minute, and flew back to stand in front of their captain.

Draco was holding what looked to be a muggle stop watch. "Alright, those that didn't finish in under 30 seconds, you don't make the cut."

He went through and pointed at those that hadn't finished in time. The seven students walked off looking sullen, leaving the other five closer to the position on the team.

Draco seemed unenthused that Nott was still in the running. He also seemed annoyed that Nott's mate, Culver, was still there too. Blaise assumed he didn't want anyone associated with Nott on the team at all. He hadn't even known that Culver had an interest in Quidditch; the boy was rather like Blaise on that front.

"Ok. Now we'll have a proper match." Draco announced to the remaining Slytherins, "This means with Beaters and Keepers. Try and score as many goals as possible in the hour you're given."

They broke up into teams, with Draco filling in to even up the number of Chasers on each team. Draco was teamed with Blaise, and a fourth year who'd introduced himself as Roger Dennings. Neither Blaise, nor Draco, expected the young boy to get on the team, nor did they expect him to get in the way, hence why they had teamed with him.

The other team was made up of Nott, Culver, and a fifth year, Dylan Troy, who was looking as though he didn't trust his teammates at all. Blaise didn't blame him. Nott and Culver hovered on their brooms, looking as though they were plotting some devious scheme.

Weasley was at his usual position on the goals, defending against Nott's team, while Potter filled in the other goal despite his usual position as Seeker. It was highly unfair, but Draco had organised it that way. It seemed he wasn't against playing dirty when it came to this; no doubt, he'd asked Potter to let a few goals slip through.

The beaters were those from the Slytherin team who were on Draco and Blaise's team, while Hufflepuff had graciously offered their two beaters as stand-in's for Nott and Culvers team. Blaise wondered if it was because of genuine generosity, or whether they only hoped to inflict some pain upon a few Slytherins. He felt a little unnerved when he saw Nott and the Hufflepuff Beaters discussing something in hushed whispers.

Draco flew beside Blaise and hovered there. "Ok, whenever I get the Quaffle, I'll pass it to you, and you just bloody go for it, ok." He looked strained, and tense.

Blaise was sure that was considered unfair, but he also assumed Nott and Culver wouldn't be playing to the rules either. "Alright, mate. I'll do my best."

"Do more than your best," Draco pushed, "You're on this fucking team whether you like it or not."

Blaise watched him fly away to his position on the field. Draco looked around to ensure everyone was in their positions, before signalling to one of the Slytherins below, who blew the whistle and threw the Quaffle in the air, signalling the beginning of the game.

* * *

><p>Hermione followed closely behind a group of Gryffindor fifth years as they headed outside to the Quidditch pitch. She was relieved that a lot of students for various houses seemed to be interested in watching the Slytherin try-outs, so she didn't feel as suspicious as she followed their lead.<p>

Draco had asked her to come. She was surprised he'd wanted her too. But apparently he did. So she'd woken up early that Saturday morning, sat in the common room for a while contemplating how suspicious she'd look, before following a group of girls down to the pitch.

If anyone asked she could just say she was supporting Blaise. People knew they were friends.

As she rounded the corner to the stadium steps she was surprised to see that tryouts had already begun. Had she waited that long?

She headed up the steps and was about to sit in a deserted seat when she heard a dreamy voice call her name. Luna was a few seats away, waving at her, seated next to Ginny who looked away awkwardly. Hermione cringed slightly, but moved toward the pair anyway, taking a seat next to Luna.

"Hi, Luna, Ginny," She greeted politely. Ginny smiled in return. Hermione returned the gesture easily. She missed Ginny.

"Are you here to support Blaise?" Luna asked, her eyes twinkling slightly. Hermione knew who she was really talking about, but of course she couldn't mention that in front of Ginny. Hermione nodded.

"Yes, he asked me to come."

Luna's smile brightened, as she turned back to the game. Hermione's eyes were drawn to Draco who was racing around on his broom, avoiding Bludgers and attempting to capture the Quaffle.

"Have I missed much?" Hermione asked after a moment. She had no idea who had scored the most.

"Blaise is in the lead," Hermione was surprised when Ginny answered her question, "He's scored 8 goals. Nott's second, he's scored 3. Not very impressive."

Hermione nodded, though her mind was occupied as she watched Nott. He was particularly skilled, it seemed, but not as much as Draco or Blaise. She thought it rather unfair that Draco was playing and helping Blaise, as well as Potter and Weasley, but she assumed they didn't care much for fairness, especially when it came to Nott.

She watched as Draco passed the Quaffle to Blaise, and he sped through to the other goal, narrowly missing a Bludger and a Beater, before sending it flying through the hoops. It didn't even look as though Potter attempted to stop it. Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

"Not exactly fair, is it?" Ginny pointed out, as if reading Hermione thoughts. "I guess we know how this will turn out. Congratulations, Luna, your boyfriends officially a Quidditch player."

Hermione didn't miss the frown that looked almost bitter on Ginny's face as she said this. Hermione wondered if Ginny disliked Blaise that much. She certainly looked disgruntled.

Another half an hour passed, and unsurprisingly, Blaise was in the lead with a ridiculously high score of 22 goals, whereas Nott only had 8. Funnily enough they were the only two who had even managed to score. The other boy on Draco and Blaise's team had not managed to get his hands on the Quaffle once, and had seemingly given up and was now more concentrated on avoiding Bludgers.

Culver hadn't even attempted to get the Quaffle, and oddly enough, had passed it to Nott each time he received it. The other boy on their team, similarly to the boy on Draco's team, had not even managed to get one goal.

This meant that the only two people even left in the running were Nott and Blaise. Though, it seemed as though Blaise were going to take the position. Unfortunately, things can change very quickly, and in a span of a few seconds, they did.

Blaise and Draco had been intently eyeing the Quaffle from the other end of the field. Blaise had flown forward in order to get closer to the goal. Draco was chasing down the Quaffle which had been thrown from Culver toward Nott. The blond had been speeding toward the Quaffle, when in an odd play, Nott flew away from Draco and instead headed toward Blaise.

Draco threw the Quaffle toward Blaise who raised his hands to catch it. In the space of three seconds, a Bludger sent roughly from a Hufflepuff beater flew like lightning toward Blaise, unbeknownst to the teen. Nott, flew in from the side, barging him into the flying balls oncoming path, and with a resounding crack, the Bludger hit Blaise right in the chest, where his heart was.

The crowd let out a chorus of muffled cries as the teen fell from his broom, unconscious. Luna stood abruptly, running down the steps of the stands, followed closely by Ginny and Hermione.

Draco had sped after his friend on his broom, looking terrified, but was not fast enough to reach him before he hit the ground with a thud. Draco landed beside him and threw his broom to the side carelessly, as he kneeled down next to the motionless boy.

Hermione Luna and Ginny reached the small crowd of people who were gathered around Blaise on the pitch. Someone was sending up red sparks, and across the field, and Hermione could see a few teachers running toward them.

"Blaise," Luna called softly, hoping to wake him. The teen didn't respond.

"Blaise, mate, wake up." Draco prodded, shaking his friend slightly. Hermione could see the panic on her boyfriends face. Blaise was unresponsive.

Hermione moved forward and kneeled down beside the boy. She was scared of what she might feel, or specifically, what she might not feel, as she placed two fingers on his neck. Nothing. There was nothing at all.

She panicked, and in the space of one second she had put her lips to his, and blew a large breath into his lungs. She tried to ignore the questions from people around her who asked what she was doing; why she was kissing him. Stupid wizards. Didnt they realise that sometimes magic was useless?

She repeated the breath and began pumping her hands up and down on his chest, counting silently to herself, while trying not to let the panic and fear well up inside her like it wanted to. She wanted to cry, but right now, while there was still a chance, she couldn't.

She continued with her pattern. Breath. Pumps. Check pulse. Breath. Pumps. Check pulse.

The crowd around them had increased, and obviously a few Muggleborns were around because people suddenly understood what Hermione was doing. She could hear Luna sniffling from beside her, and Draco sat across from her with his head in his hands muttering that he should have made Blaise wear proper gear, instead of just the basic padding.

Hermione was internally punishing herself for ever suggesting that Blaise go to try-outs. If she hadn't of encouraged him, this wouldn't have happened. But she couldn't think of that right now, she had to save him. She had to concentrate.

It felt like hours of CPR, before Madam Pomfrey arrived running across the field, her white robes sailing in the wind. The woman seemed to have some understanding of muggle medicine because she understood what Hermione was doing.

She waved her wand a few times, and Hermione had no idea what spells she was performing, but she didn't stop her ministrations on Blaise's chest. It was only when the woman grasped her arm, did she pause.

"He has a pulse, but only just. I need to get him back to the Hospital Wing. Good work, Miss Granger. If it wasn't for your quick thinking, I hate to think what might have happened."

The nurse conjured a stretcher and levitated Blaise onto it. She began to float him toward the castle, with a sobbing Luna, and a comforting Ginny following behind.

Hermione let herself sit back, as the weight of the situation finally dawned on her.

Blaise had almost died.

Hermione's body was wracked with a sob, and it was only when she felt a warm arm around her did she look up. It wasn't the arm she expected, however, and she pushed Nott away roughly with a disgusted look on her face.

"What are you doing? Don't touch me! This is your fault!"

Draco looked up from his place across from her, where he'd been silently mourning, or praying, for his friend. As soon as he noticed Nott, who was smiling teasingly as Hermione, his face turned from dazed to murderous.

He stood abruptly from his place on the ground and Hermione had jump out of the way so as not to be squashed as he dived at the other boy and began throwing punches at Nott wherever he could land them.

Nott's friend Culver, moved forward and dragged Draco away by his shirt, before throwing him roughly to the ground. Nott stood and wiped the blood off his nose, though he didn't look any less pleased with himself.

"You fucking asshole!" Draco cried, as he attempted to get back to Nott. Culver held him back quite efficiently, despite his smaller size.

"What?" Nott asked innocently with a shrug, "Are you upset that I nearly killed your friend, or that I hugged your girl-,"

"Fuck you!" Draco interrupted in a ferocious growl. Nott merely shook his head laughing.

"You know, you're being a bit irrational, mate," Nott commented stirringly, though Hermione could see a flash of anger in the boys eyes.

Draco's face was red with rage, and his breathing was raspy. "You nearly fucking killed him, you piece of shit!"

Nott shrugged. "You weren't playing fair, now why should I?"

Draco didn't answer but merely struggled to get back to the teen to finish what he had started. Culver seemed to now be struggling to hold him back.

"You know what would be fair?" Nott continued, lightly. "If you just quit the team altogether."

Draco laughed harshly in his face. "You fucking wish, Nott."

Nott nodded in return. "You're right. That's likely to not happen, since you seem to have a few little friends there, am I right?" he motioned to Weasley and Potter, who Hermione only just noticed were standing a few feet away, looking wary.

"How about you just give up your Captaincy. To me. I'll let you stay on the team as a Chaser. Pretty generous that I'll give you that."

Draco laughed again, it was crazed and animalistic. Hermione wondered if he was even aware of what was going on right now, or if all sense had left him when Blaise had stopped breathing.

"You weren't even good enough to make it onto the fucking team!"

Nott shrugged easily, though he was tense at the insult of his skills. "Wasn't exactly fair was it? And besides, if you hadn't realised, Zabini won't be playing Quidditch for a while."

At this comment, Draco attempted to once again break free of Culver's hold, which still managed to restrain him. Potter and Weasley stomped forward, right into Nott's face.

"You better watch yourself, Nott." Weasley warned him, darkly.

Nott scoffed and pushed Weasley out of his way. "Fine, fine. Keep your little Quidditch position then, but it won't be much good to you when everyone finds out you're dating Granger and your daddy gets involved, will it?"

Potter and Weasley looked toward at Draco, wearing identical expressions of uncertainty. Draco merely stared back at Nott with an unreadable glare on his face.

Hermione sat on the sidelines watching on silently. How could they have been so stupid to think that Nott had no idea about them? He'd hinted so many times, but they'd assumed that if he knew, the whole school would also.

"You've got no proof." Draco said, it almost sounded like a question.

Nott smirked, clearly pleased at the other boys admittance. "I may have been the only one to see you snogging in the library, but I'm sure you'll want to continue doing that, wont you? Once the whole school gets suspicious, you won't even be able to blink at each other. And then when Malfoy Sr. finds out..." he left his sentence hanging with a threat. It worked effectively, and Hermione saw Draco's eyes flicker to hers for a moment, before returning to Nott.

So it had been Nott all along. He had been the one that had spotted them that night in the library. They had thought themselves lucky that no one had found out, but they were certainly paying for it now.

"You'd just tell people anyway, even if I gave you the Captaincy." Draco accused, suspiciously. Potter and Weasley looked aghast that he was even considering the offer.

"Why don't we shake on it?" Nott offered. Draco stood silently for a moment, before breaking out of Culvers hold and striding stiffly toward Nott, stopping a few feet away.

"Hermione?" He turned to look at her, "Can you do this? I'm sure that clever brain of yours knows a vow that'll work." Nott scoffed at Draco's unusually kind words, as Hermione nodded.

She stood reluctantly and headed towards the pair. Draco was trying to keep a brave face, but she could tell underneath it all that he was devastated by the events of that day. She didn't blame him.

She felt guilty that he had to make a decision like this just for them. She wondered if he thought she was worth it. Almost as if sensing her doubt, he caught her eye and gave her a small, but incredibly reassuring smile.

"Ok...so you'll have to join hands." That seemed to be the hardest part for Nott and Draco. Both of the hesitated, before reluctantly grabbing the others hand. It seemed from the white colour that spread across both their fingers, that the grip was tight and probably painful.

"Mate, don't do this," Weasley stepped forward, pleading, "There's got to be another way. You _are_ the team!"

It seemed both Weasley and Potter were devastated about losing their captain, even if Draco could still be on the team. Hermione knew it had been Draco's dream since he first began Hogwarts to become Quidditch Captain. It was one of his greatest passions. Now he had to give that up, all because he got involved with her.

Draco merely shook his head, and turned to Hermione, silently prompting her to continue. She held up her wand, and began the vow.

"Do you, Theodore Nott, promise not to tell a soul, living or dead, about Draco's and my relationship, so long as he gives you the Quidditch Captaincy?"

"I promise," Nott replied. A thin green flame wrapped around his arm. Hermione continued.

"Do you, Draco Malfoy, promise to give Theodore the Quidditch Captaincy, as long as he doesn't tell a soul about our relationship?"

"I promise," Draco said without hesitation. Another green flame appeared, except this time it wrapped itself around Draco's arm, sealing the bond. They broke apart immediately after that, as though it disgusted them to touch one another.

"Say, Granger, what exactly are the consequences if I break this vow?" Draco looked scathingly at Nott as he asked the question. Hermione felt a little uncertain about his curiosity as well.

"Uh, well you break out into painful boils. They don't go away, either." That was a lie. The boils disappeared after a week, but Nott didn't need to know that.

Both he and Draco looked fearful at Hermione's proclamation. She didn't see the big deal, it was better than death. That thought only brought her back to Blaise, and she itched to get to the Hospital wing.

"What about him? He better not tell anyone," Draco warned, nodding toward Culver.

Nott waved him off. "Culver won't tell anyone. Kinda ruins the vow if he does, doesn't it? Then you could take away the Captaincy."

"Now for your end of the bargain," Nott continued, holding out his hand. Draco reluctantly unpinned the silver badge that clung to his Quidditch robes, and dropped it roughly into Nott's hand. It was all too familiar of the Prefect incident just months before.

"Better get used to me as your new Captain," Nott said smugly. Draco scoffed.

"You really think I'd stay on the team? I'd rather not play at all, then to play under you."

Potter and Weasley looked even more distraught if possible, but Nott merely shrugged. "Looks like you're our new Chaser then, Culver."

Culver, surprisingly, didn't look overjoyed at the news and merely nodded. Hermione wondered if the boy even liked Quidditch at all.

Draco left a moment later without a word, followed by Potter and Weasley. Hermione stood staring after him, shocked at his sacrifice, and worried that he may resent her for it.

"Prefect. Quidditch captain. I'd love to take his girlfriend, too."

Hermione turned and sent the most hate-filled glare at Nott, who was grinning wildly.

"Now, come on, Granger. You need to learn who to waste your time with."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I'd rather waste my time with Draco doing nothing at all, then spend it with you doing everything. You're a foul creature, Nott. You nearly killed someone and you're grinning! You truly are the filth of the earth! I may be a mudblood, but I'm nowhere near as disgusting as you!"

She swung her leg back, and sent a powerful kick right to his crotch. He cowered over in pain, clutching himself, but she didn't bother to wait for his abuse as she stomped off in the direction Draco had left just moments before.

Draco had nearly lost Blaise today, and he'd lost Quidditch entirely. One of those reasons was because of his relationship with Hermione. If there was anything she could give him, it would be to cause a little pain to Nott, even if it was only a percentage of what Draco was probably feeling right now.

Her pace quickened, as she ran toward the hospital wing. Above all things, the most important was to ensure that Blaise would be alright.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I am so sorry about how long this took. It really was a pain in the behind to write and get an idea for. I think I like the direction of this chapter, and hopefully I won't be too stuck on the next one.**

**What did you guys think of their little snuggle-scene in the Room of Requirement? Was it incredibly awkward? Would you like to see more of that?**

**Also, please don't kill me for nearly killing Blaise. I just like to scare people :D**

**Anyways, i have the flu, so I'm going to go collapse somewhere. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And thank you for reading it, you're all such lovely specimens :P**

**Cheers,**

**Leni**


	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter 19**_

_...in which things are discovered and plans are made._

* * *

><p>Hogwarts had never seemed so lifeless. The corridors seemed darker, the weather was cold and stormy, and even the people seemed less invigorated.<p>

Hermione knew her reason for viewing the world in such a way was different to everyone else's. They were just miserable because of the weather and the fact that they had been stuck in the castle for the past week, unable to venture out in the fresh air. Hermione's reason for feeling this way was because it felt as though the world had fallen apart.

Since the event at the Slytherin tryouts last week, things had been strained. Blaise was still in the hospital wing, and Hermione had only been allowed to see him once. His run in with the Bludger had stopped his heart. The force, pressure, and direct hit on his heart had been enough to send him into cardiac arrest, and the fall had left multiple fractures in his ribs and limbs, and a punctured lung.

Hermione had been the only one allowed to see him of anybody, merely because the nurse wanted to thank her for her quick thinking on the Quidditch pitch. It was funny, in a way, to think that without a Muggleborn being there at that moment, Blaise would have surely died. And many people thought they didn't deserve to be in the magical world. They'd certainly be one pureblood short right now if they weren't.

Blaise had looked so broken, lying unconscious on the hospital bed. She had felt herself choke up at the sight until the nurse assured her that his unconscious state was induced, merely because he would be in far too much pain to be awake right now. She could only heal so many wounds at once, and the prolonged pain would surely take a toll on him.

At least Blaise would be okay, eventually.

Draco was another matter altogether. The teen had been miserable the past week. He had been walking around like a zombie, picking fights with anyone who looked twice at him, which was more and more people every day, considering his state.

Hermione had tried earnestly to cheer him up, but Blaise's absence and the loss of his Quidditch Captaincy was merely too much for him to handle. Every time Hermione saw him, she was wracked with guilt, because she felt this was all her fault.

If it wasn't for her, Draco would have never been blackmailed into giving up his Captaincy. Hermione knew at the time it was wrong. She had wanted to stop him from agreeing to it, but she knew neither of them was ready to face the judgement and consequences that would surely come from admitting their relationship. Not when Lucius Malfoy was involved.

Hermione didn't know much of the man, but she had heard rumours' that when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named reigned, before he had killed the Potter's, Lucius Malfoy had been one of his closest followers. The elder Malfoy hated muggles and Mudbloods just as much as the maniacal psychopath who had been killed 17 years ago.

That thought was constant in Hermione's mind. Telling people about her relationship with Draco would most likely lead to serious consequences. Maybe even death. Obviously, she would do anything to prevent that, and so would Draco, therefore they would hide their secret in any way, until there was no other option.

Was Nott even trustworthy to keep their secret? He was obviously an ass, but he seemed too selfish of his own needs to destroy his chance at being Quidditch captain. Or perhaps he was just biding his time, giving them a false sense of security, only to pull the rug out from under them, and expose them to everybody. Maybe that was his style.

Or maybe she was just becoming paranoid from her lack of sleep in the past week. She had spent all of her nights with Draco in the room of requirement, trying desperately to make him smile, that she had only been getting three to four hours of sleep per night. It was definitely taking its toll on her.

In fact, she was drifting off right now. Suddenly her hand that her head rested on felt like a soft pillow; her eyes flickered shut slightly. The seat at her library desk suddenly felt like a comfortable mattress, maybe if she just rested for a second Madam Pince wouldn't throw her out...

"Hermione!"

She jolted upright, and blinked rapidly at the loud interruption that had ruined such a blissful moment of rest. It was Neville, looking down at her with a concerned gaze. He slipped into the opposite seat, resting his bag on the floor, and continued to stare at her.

"I'm sorry, Neville, I'm just so tired," she said, fighting back a yawn. If she didn't have a Transfiguration essay due, she would definitely be in bed catching up on some much needed sleep this afternoon. Neville sighed.

"How much sleep have you been getting? I know you haven't been getting back to your dorm til the late hours of the morning."

Hermione furrowed her brows in silent question.

"Lavender Brown," he said, as though that were all the explanation she needed. It was. No doubt Lavender was out and about gossiping about Hermione's frequent absences. She could only imagine what the girl was saying.

Hermione grumbled, rubbing her face with her hands in an attempt to wake herself up. "A lot's been going on lately. Sleep is the last thing I have time for."

Neville sighed again, though this time he looked more annoyed than anything. "If Malfoy really cared about you, he wouldn't be keeping you up constantly. I've seen what he's like lately; it's not your fault. He shouldn't let you wear yourself down."

Hermione knew Neville was only looking out for her, but this was one thing he didn't understand. He _couldn't_ understand. Draco wasn't forcing her to do anything, she wanted to be with him when he was down; she knew he would do the same for her, even if he claimed otherwise. He cared for her, and she for him. It was as simple as that, and far more complicated at the same time.

"I know you're worried," Hermione began, staring at her hands, "but if I don't help him through this, then what sort of person am I?"

It was a rhetorical question; one that she thought would settle the argument. Unfortunately, Neville didn't see it that way.

"You'd be the sort of person who needs to stop sacrificing their own health and safety for someone who probably won't do the same when the time comes."

It was a short sentence. A short explanation of how Neville saw things.

And it was like a slap in the face. To think that she might be so blinded by..._love _that she would ignore the reality of the situation was an insult. And it made her worry that perhaps it could be true.

When the time came, and everybody found out, would Draco stick by her? Or would he dump her in the thick of hate and resentment and run back to the safety and ignorant views of his old life?

That was the risk though, wasn't it?

Neville seemed to sense her hurt, and doubt, and raced to fix the damage his words had caused.

"I'm not saying he doesn't care for you Hermione," he said quickly, "you're very easy to care about. But do you think he'll give up things for you, like you are for him?"

She didn't answer him, but merely thought about his words. Draco had already given up his Quidditch Captaincy for their relationship. That was something. Although...that benefited both of them.

Hermione hated to admit it, but she didn't know. All she could do was trust that he would. And she trusted him.

"He would." She said confidently. To anyone else it might sound like the naive words of a teenage girl in love, but Hermione knew that great things didn't come without risks.

Neville merely nodded, though she could tell he didn't quite believe her words. They didn't discuss it further, however, and conversation moved onto that of a certain Hufflepuff by the name of Hannah Abbot who Neville was planning on asking out the next day. Hermione couldn't help but be happy for Neville; if only everything were as hopeful as this.

* * *

><p>Up in the Hospital wing, Blaise lay motionless on the bed. To anyone looking down at him, he'd look like an empty shell of a person; inside his head, however, he was as life-filled as the day he was born.<p>

His thoughts swirled from place to place. One moment, he was with Luna by the beech tree, laughing at the giant squid as he tried to bat away swooping birds with his long tentacles. The next moment, he was five years old, at his mother's side, gripping her hand as she introduced him to yet another man he would fail to call 'father'.

He was flying with Draco, racing down the large green field at Malfoy mansion; then laughing with Hermione in the library as they worked on their homework together. His thoughts flickered back and forth until eventually darkness, like a cloud, began to blur his vision.

He felt an unnatural pull at his thoughts, and just as he looked into the electric blue of Luna's mirthful eyes one more time, he woke up in a white room, with Madam Pomfrey looking down at him.

"Welcome back, Mr Zabini," she said brightly, handing him a potion. "Take this; it'll help with the pain."

Pain?

Suddenly he realised that he was in an _extreme_ amount of pain, all over his body. He gulped the potion down like it was the sweetest nectar in the world, and was relieved when he felt his body numb and tingle pleasantly.

What the hell had happened? The last conscious thought he remembered was flying on the Quidditch field. He must have fallen off his broom in the wind. Bloody Draco. He was going to kill him for making him try-out in that weather.

"I imagine you don't remember a lot of the incident, but I'll let your friends fill you in on that when you leave. I'm merely here to ensure you are well again."

Blaise sat up slightly, barely containing his excitement. "Can I leave now?"

The nurse looked aghast at the idea. "Goodness no, child. I've merely woken you up from your sedation. You still have a couple more days til you're well enough to be up and about. Now lay back down, you'll damage your lung if you're not careful."

She eased him back down onto the bed, and left to fetch him a late lunch. Blaise stared up at the ceiling, not really looking at anything. He had no idea of how long he had been here, but he wanted to leave. He wanted to see Luna, and punch Draco in the arm. At least Draco would surely be worried that he'd nearly killed him. Blaise couldn't help but think that might be pay back enough.

The nurse returned a few minutes later with some soup, and a bread roll. Apparently he was too weak to digest anything other than that.

He took his first spoonful of soup and swallowed, before realising he hadn't asked the nurse what was on his mind.

"Uh, Madam Pomfrey, how long have I been out for?" Blaise asked, as he took another spoonful of soup.

"You've been sedated for a week." The nurse answered, as she flitted around him.

Blaise nearly choked on his soup. A week? What the bloody hell had happened to him? Normal Quidditch accidents could be fixed in a day or two.

He merely nodded, and the nurse left him to finish his meal. Blaise, however, was far too preoccupied with wanting to see Luna and discovering what had caused such a long stay in the hospital wing.

* * *

><p>Hermione stepped out of the library doors, with Neville at her side, as they discussed possible places he could ask Hannah Abbot to be his girlfriend.<p>

"What about the shore of the great lake?" Neville suggested. Hermione smiled at his enthusiasm.

"It would be a great place, if the weather was better," she reminded him, "it has to be somewhere in the castle. I don't see why the library isn't a nice spot. It's the place you two got to know each other."

Neville shrugged. "I just think it should be more special. Sure, we shared one kiss there, but it's the library."

Hermione didn't want to mention how much meaning the library had to her, especially since she and Draco had shared quite a few kisses there in the past.

"I suppose you'll find a place then," Hermione encouraged distractedly; she had just spotted a lone figure leaning against the wall at the end of the corridor. Even as a silhouette she knew who it was; Draco.

Almost as if sensing her gaze, he kicked off the wall and headed toward them. As he came into the light it was easy to see the effect that the past week had had on him.

His pale skin was blemished by dark rings under his eyes, a sign that he was getting as much sleep as Hermione. He hadn't bothered styling his hair, though it still sat straight against his head. He had a shadow of blonde stubble where he had failed to shave, and his overall appearance often left people staring in shock. It was unusual to see Draco Malfoy, the leader of the Silver Marauders, looking so unkempt.

The blond stopped a few feet in front of Hermione and Neville, his face blank and expressionless. Hermione had become accustomed to it over the past week; he hadn't smiled once, or smirked, which was even more unusual.

"Malfoy," Neville greeted, though it was rather tense. Draco nodded in return, before turning to Hermione.

"Can we go somewhere?" he asked her, his voice husky from its lack of use over the week.

Hermione knew he was referring to their special room, and judging from the tired sigh that came from Neville, she knew he knew that she would be getting barely any sleep again tonight. Draco, in his state, didn't even bother to acknowledge Neville's defiant action, and merely continued to blink at Hermione, waiting for an answer.

She knew Neville would be disappointed in her, and that he would probably lecture her about it tomorrow, but she tried to ignore the reasonable part of her brain and focus on the clearly helpless teen in front of her. "Ok," she replied softly.

She said a quick goodbye to Neville, which he returned reluctantly, eyeing her with disapproval, before she and Draco headed down the corridor in opposite directions.

They had become accustomed to meeting at their special room this way. He would take the shortcuts he knew so well, and she would climb the staircase. He would slip out from behind a tapestry on the seventh floor and she would arrive a few minutes later. It had become a routine.

She strode up the staircase, all the way to the seventh floor. She turned down one corridor, then another, until she was walking toward Draco, who was eyeing the tapestry of the troll ballet with an uninterested expression.

"Beat you," he commented, hearing her steps on the stone floor. The comment might have been taken teasingly if it had been accompanied with a smirk, but his lack of expression kept it rather serious.

"Like always," Hermione replied. She turned toward the wall and closed her eyes, thinking of a place they could sit that might cheer Draco up, at least a little.

The door appeared within seconds, and they both slipped inside. Hermione wanted to smack herself. Inside of the room looked to be a museum dedicated to Quidditch over the years. There were old makes of broomsticks, old uniforms of famous players, and even the first snitch ever made. Normally, this would cheer Draco up, but given the circumstances, she doubted it would do anything more than anger him.

She snuck a glance at the teen, and found he was eyeing one of the brooms with interest. She moved to his side and began to read the plaque on the broom, with much surprise.

"I didn't know you had famous Quidditch players in your family." She commented in awe. Draco merely shrugged.

"It was my great, great grandfather. The Malfoy's were always a well-know family, not just because of Quidditch. My father made us known for the wrong reasons too."

His voice held bitterness and scorn, and Hermione feared looking at his face because she thought the expression on it at the moment would no doubt be one of hatred. She hated that he had lived his whole life shadowed because of his father; that he had a sadistic view on everything because of that man. She felt bad that she took the one last thing he'd enjoyed away from him.

"Draco...I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to give up Quidditch because of me. I know it was the only thing you really loved to do."

She looked up at him to find him staring down at her with a furrowed brow. "Bloody Gryffindors," he muttered, "You don't have to take the blame for everything, you know? It wasn't your fault. I wanted you just as much as you wanted me. It's Nott's fault, anyway."

Hermione eyed him for a moment, trying to gauge whether he was lying; he didn't seem like he was. She let out a breath of relief. While she knew it was ridiculous to blame herself, she couldn't help it, but she was relieved to know he didn't resent her.

"I made the right decision," he said, staring at the broom in front of him. "You're more important than Quidditch."

He turned and walked away from her, and suddenly the room shifted into the same bedroom they had slept in on their first night there. The dim lighting and roaring fire illuminated the room with a relaxing glow. The four poster bed in the middle of the room sat invitingly with green silk sheets. They had spent every night here together. It had become their 'thing'.

Hermione stood rooted on the spot as she watched Draco slip off his shirt. He had lost some weight from his stress over the past week, but was still lean and muscled across his torso. She followed the ripples of his abs down to his belt as he unbuckled it, and slipped his pants off.

He slid into the sheets, and lay against the headboard watching her. Hermione didn't even realise she hadn't taken her eyes off his chest once until she heard him clear his throat. She looked up at his face to find him not quite smirking, but looking extremely pleased with himself.

"Aren't you going to join me?" He asked in his gravelly voice, that now sounded more seductive then anything.

She merely nodded, fearing that if she opened her mouth all that would come out would be a babble of nonsensical syllables.

She moved over to the opposite side of the large bed, and began to slip in fully clothed. It wasn't until Draco moved towards her that she halted in her movements and looked at him with a puzzled expression. Didnt he want her to hop in the bed too?

She stepped back until both feet were on the ground, and he was able to sit on the edge of the bed in front of her. It was only when his hands moved to the collar of her shirt, and he began slowly unbuttoning her shirt did she feel a rush of excitement, but also panic rush through her body. He was undressing her.

"D-Draco," She stuttered quietly, halting his hand with her own. He had already managed to undo over half her buttons and her white cotton bra and her cleavage were now exposed. He looked up at her with a questioning stare.

"I'm not ready for... _that_," She was sure he knew what she was talking about judging by the small flicker he made to her breasts with his eyes. Despite that, he nodded.

"Ok...but can I at least have you somewhat bare? I want to feel your skin on mine."

Hermione eyed him nervously for a moment, considering his request. While they had touched each other intimately before, she had never been naked in any way in front of him. She had never been confident in her looks, and knew she wasn't the most attractive girl around, so she was never confident to flaunt herself. It just wasn't what she'd do.

However, Hermione couldn't deny the feeling of complete ease that came over her when she saw the way Draco looked at her sometimes. She could quite put her finger on it, but it sometimes reminded her of the way her father would look at her mother while they danced to their favourite songs in the sitting room at home when she was younger.

Draco's eyes held a certain glint, like he knew something that he assumed she never would know, nor understand, and while it killed her with curiosity, it also somehow helped to ease her rushing panic at the thought of letting him see every part of her.

She nodded at him, and allowed him to slip off her shirt. It fell in a messy heap at her feet, and she tossed it away carelessly with her foot as Draco stood in front of her. She felt her heart beat speed up as she came face to face with his gloriously muscled chest, as he reached around and unclipped her bra, his breath on her ear the whole time.

The flimsy piece of fabric fell to the floor and Hermione swallowed nervously as he leaned back and took in the sight of her bare breasts. His concentrated gaze left her self-conscious, but when he met her eyes and she saw nothing but lust and awe within them, her shoulder relaxed slightly, and she no longer felt the need to hide from him.

"You know how they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder?" he asked quietly, his voice was soft and husky; "You're beauty, to me."

Hermione met his eyes and found nothing but sincerity. She had never received such a compliment before, especially not from someone as perfect as Draco. She was so caught up in her surprise that she didn't ever notice him slip her skirt down around her waist.

It was only when he picked her up did she yelp and realise she was wearing nothing but her thin cotton knickers, and that she could feel his warm skin pressed right against her own as he pulled her into the bed.

"You could have just asked me to hop in," she grumbled as she shifted into a comfortable position beside him.

She felt him shrug easily. "It's more fun to surprise you," he said, with evident amusement in his voice. The sound fizzled her annoyance at once and she was merely happy to see him brightening up a bit.

They lay side by side, limbs entwined for a few hours, until they were sure they had missed dinner. It was only then that they reluctantly moved from their comfortable positions and parted ways to go to their respective dorms. Hermione was happy at the progress she'd made today in brightening Draco's mood; she had a feeling that things would be even better tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Monday morning came quickly with the sun shining in Hermione face far too early for her liking. Once again, she had gotten hardly any sleep. Her worry for Draco's well-being would have kept her up even if she wasn't spending most of her nights in their special room together.<p>

She showered and dressed, and stood in front of the bathroom mirror trying to will herself to take on the fuzz-ball that was now her hair. When she heard the door creak open behind her, however, she couldn't help the unenthusiastic groan that escaped her lips.

"Late night again, Hermione?" Lavender asked too sweetly, as she ducked in beside her at the bathroom mirror.

Hermione sniffed haughtily. "That's really none of your business." She said shortly.

Lavender began primping her hair in the mirror, ignoring Hermione's warning.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were out meeting a boy. But that's just a ridiculous idea, isn't it? You don't have time for boys with the amount of time your head's stuck in books. I'm actually surprised you haven't come across a book that would tame your ghastly hair, yet."

Hermione felt her hand twitch toward her wand which lay on the basin, but resisted the urge to hex the girl. Instead she picked up the piece of wood and began layering charms on her hair like she did every morning in order to tame it. Once she was done, Lavender turned to her with a critical eye.

"I suppose it couldn't get any worse than it was before," the girl said shrugging. Hermione ground her teeth as the blonde wandered off into the shower. She would not let Lavender put her in a bad mood today; she needed to be positive.

However, something that would improve Hermione's mood could be achieved by a little covert wand-waving. With a quick flick of her wand toward the shower as she left the bathroom, the last thing she heard was the maniacal scream of Lavender Brown as she exited the dorm.

"HERMIONE! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

* * *

><p>On her way down to breakfast, wearing a satisfied smirk that one might mistake, with good reason, as extremely similar to Draco Malfoy's, she was almost knocked down on the staircase by a blur of blonde as Luna raced past her. The girl stopped and turned, her blue eyes wide with excitement.<p>

"Hermione! I was just going to get you!" She said excitedly. Hermione wondered what there was to be excited about, considering the circumstances.

"Well you found me," she replied with a small chuckle. Luna grinned.

"Blaise is awake! A girl In Gryffindor-oh, I can't remember her name; Olive? Olli...? -anyway, she was helping Madam Pomfrey take up potions from the Dungeons, and she came and told me he was awake!"

Hermione felt a thrill of happiness shoot through her and a grin grew on her face to match that of Luna's. "That was nice of her," Hermione said, surprised at the kindness of the girl when most of them disliked Luna, "can we go see him? Does Draco know?"

Luna shook her head. "I don't know...I was just going to go there after I found you. Draco and the other's don't know yet," she looked hesitant, "I suppose I should go tell them, it'd be a bit suspicious if you did..."

Hermione nodded. If she approached the Slytherin table and spoke to Draco Malfoy, no doubt the whole hall would stare. Luna, at least, was used to that and she would have a reason to approach them. She was dating their best friend who was now out of his week-long coma.

"Well, I'll head to the hospital wing now, and you go grab the others. I'll meet you there." Hermione suggested.

Luna merely nodded, before racing back down the stairs at a speed Hermione didn't know the dreamy girl could muster. Hermione couldn't fight the smile that adorned her face at the sight. Luna really cared for Blaise.

After snapping out of her daze, Hermione picked up the pace and raced down the stairs to toward the hospital wing. By the time she reached the doors, she was breathless and a light sheen of sweat sat on her forehead. She took one deep breath, before pushing open the doors.

Immediately the breath in her lungs came rushing out.

Blaise sat lying on the bed, sleeping; no doubt induced by one of Madam Pomfrey's potions. He wasn't alone, however. Ginny sat at the side of the bed, her face only inches from his, her lips pressed to his softly. As soon as the door creaked open, Ginny jumped away from the teen and stood wide-eyed and guilty-faced staring back at Hermione.

After a moment, the girl let out a sigh. "It's just you."

Was that something she should be relieved about? Hermione had just caught her kissing Blaise, the boyfriend of one of her friends.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she strode towards the bed. "What was that?" She asked, not bothering to contain her anger.

Ginny didn't reply, but her eyes merely flickered from Blaise back to Hermione.

"Is that what sort of friend you are?" Hermione continued. "Kissing their boyfriends while they're asleep," at that moment, Blaise let out a snore; they ignored it. "I guess Blaise is your new target now."

Ginny seemed surprised at Hermione's harsh words. The elder Gryffindor assumed that Ginny never expected her to react like this. Perhaps Ginny never really knew Hermione's potential.

"Hermione, it's not like that-,"

"What exactly is it like then?" Hermione interrupted, not interested in listening to Ginny's explanation, "I walk in and find you kissing him, there are only a few excuses that can explain that. Perhaps you merely tripped." She finished sarcastically.

Suddenly, Hermione felt extremely threatened. Ginny was willing to use tactics such as this to get what she wanted. What if she decided next week that Blaise was not the one for her, and that Draco was once again the one she wanted. Hermione had never felt real protectiveness over something, but right now she wanted nothing more than to stop Ginny from hurting her own relationship.

But Luna was her friend. This was Luna's happiness at stake, not her own. She had to help Luna with this when the girl was in the dark about it.

"Hermione, please don't say anything, I'm not trying to steal him-,"

"You couldn't steal him anyway," Hermione interjected quickly, feeling the need to defend Luna's honour. "You clearly don't know Blaise at all, because if you did, you'd know that he loves Luna more than anything else. It's pointless trying to 'steal' him, because you won't get him. He and Luna are perfect together, don't ruin it. You're supposed to be her friend, and here you are backstabbing her. Were you going to stop talking to her as well, as soon as you knew they were happy?"

Hermione hated how her voice choked up as she asked Ginny that question. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone, but the fact that Ginny had stopped speaking to her without any real reason or explanation had bothered her immensely.

The red-head stepped forward with a sympathetic look on her face, and Hermione immediately hated it. She was supposed to be tense and fearful that Hermione would tell people of her little secret crush on Blaise, not feeling sorry for Hermione.

"Don't," Hermione halted her movements with a raised hand. She didn't want Ginny's sympathy or friendship. It clearly wasn't a precious thing to have.

"Do you even know how to be friends with someone?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Friendship is like, well, I suppose it's meant to be like siblings. Would you abandon your siblings because they did something you hated, or because they had something you wanted, or because you fought?"

Ginny eyed her for a moment, before shaking her head solemnly.

"Exactly." Hermione continued, "You don't deserve friends if this is how you treat them."

They stared intensely at each other for a moment, the tension in the air was clear. Only when the doors to the hospital wing opened did they turn from each other, and toward those who entered.

Professor McGonagall strode in, followed by Luna, Draco, Potter and Weasley, who were all looking far happier than they had been in the past few days. Hermione hadn't payed much attention to Potter and Weasley, having most of her time taken up with Draco, but she knew they were just as worried about their friend as the blond.

They gathered around the bed, eyeing Blaise with interest, as if to see if he had any scars or bruises that they would need to make Nott pay for. No doubt they were already planning something.

"Ah, Miss Granger, just the student I was looking for."

Hermione turned away from the group of boys, toward her head of house who was looking toward her with a rather displeased expression. Hermione's stomach instantly dropped. Was she in trouble? She barely ever got into trouble.

"Uh, how can I help you Professor?" Hermione asked nervously.

"I think you know, Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall said tiredly, "Giving student's mud showers may be considered a joke to you, but I assure you, Miss Brown did not see the funny side."

Immediately, there were three snorts of amusement from behind them. The professor eyed the boys scathingly, and they muffled their amusement with their hands. Hermione didn't miss the wink Draco sent to her over the professors' shoulder.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Miss Granger. I expect much more from a prefect, especially one that is in the running for head girl. Now, I will allow you some time with Mr Zabini, but after that it's straight to class with all of you." She eyed them all, before turning back to Hermione. "Come to my office tonight after dinner to receive your punishment."

With that, the older woman, strode out of the hospital wing, letting the doors swing shut behind her.

"Nice one, Granger," Weasley commented after a moment, an amused grin on his face.

"You should be proud, Malfoy, you're teaching the little lady your bad ways," Potter said stupidly, nudging Draco with his elbow. The boy in question scoffed, though he looked a little too pleased by Potter's proclamation. Hermione, at that moment, wanted to smack them all across their heads for saying such a thing in front of Ginny.

"Wait...what do you mean? Why would he be teaching Hermione his bad ways?" Ginny questioned with a puzzled expression from the other side of the bed.

The three boys looked up at the same time as though they only just realised the other girl was there. Their eyes widened comically, and they each shared weary expressions. If Hermione hadn't been panicking herself, she might've laughed at the situation.

"When did you bloody get here?" Weasley crowed in an attempt to change the subject, eyeing his sister with a baffled expression. Ginny merely sighed tiredly.

"I've been here the whole time, you idiot," she replied moodily. Weasley didn't look satisfied by his sister's explanation.

"And why exactly are you here?" he asked rudely, "you aren't friends with Zabini."

"I was helping Madam Pomfrey with her potions; I got Olivia to go tell Luna that Blaise is awake. Well, _was_ awake. Madam Pomfrey gave him a potion when we came in, said she had to heal a few more wounds while he was out. Now, answer my question, why would Malfoy have a bad influence on Hermione?"

"Olivia, that was her name," Luna exclaimed, looking as though she had just solved an important problem. No one paid her outburst much attention, however, as they were all staring each other down, unsure about how to explain Potter's thoughtless comment.

When no one spoke, Ginny turned to Hermione with an understanding expression. "You didn't say no to him when he asked you out, did you?"

Hermione didn't answer, and that in itself was answer enough. The younger girl sighed.

"Why didn't you tell me? Didnt you trust me?" What a stupid question. Of course she didn't; not anymore, anyway.

"Why would she tell you?" Draco interjected with clear hostility in his voice, "You haven't exactly been a good friend to her. It's none of your business."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at Draco, before turning back to Hermione. "You'll regret it."

Draco opened his mouth to argue back, but Hermione spoke over him. "No I won't."

Draco stared at her silently with an unreadable expression on his face, while Ginny merely shook her head as though Hermione were naive. Perhaps she was, but that still was no business of Ginny's, not after she forfeited their friendship.

"I'll see you in class, Luna," Ginny said, moving around toward the door. She stopped in front of Hermione, "See you later, Hermione."

She went to leave, but Draco who was apparently displeased with the sudden abrupt ending called out to her.

"Oi, Weasley, you better not tell anybody about Granger and me."

Ginny turned from Draco, to Hermione, and a silent agreement was formed between them. Hermione wouldn't mention the events of this morning if Ginny wouldn't mention their relationship. That didn't mean, however, that Hermione was going to sit back and allow Ginny to ruin Blaise and Luna's relationship.

"I won't tell anyone," Ginny said after a moment, "I wouldn't want to ruin Hermione's reputation with that sort of rumour."

With that, she left the Hospital wing and Hermione was left gaping after her.

"Well, nice one, Potter. How about you think before you speak next time, you git?" Draco berated in annoyance.

The boy in question merely shrugged guiltily. He wasn't to blame. A slip like that was bound to happen eventually.

"She won't tell anyone," Hermione assured Draco. He looked at her sceptically.

"You really think that? Ginny hates me. Even if she doesn't hate you, if she has the opportunity to screw me over, she will, and she probably won't care if it ruins you too."

"Nott hasn't told anyone," Hermione pointed out uselessly.

Draco shook his head. "Nott's getting something out of it, and he's also under an unbreakable vow. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want his pretty face ruined with boils for the rest of his life." Draco spat bitterly.

Hermione let the subject drop. She couldn't explain to Draco that she knew Ginny wouldn't tell anyone. It would just make him do something stupid to the girl and she likely would tell, then.

"I wish Zabini would wake up," Weasley said, changing the subject, "we need to start planning our revenge on Nott."

Hermione sighed. She knew it. "And what exactly would this revenge include? I am a prefect, remember."

Weasley grinned. "That's exactly why we aren't telling you." Hermione scowled at him, "Don't worry Granger, it's nothing against the rules, at least I don't think it is..."

Hermione sighed tiredly.

"When were you going to inform me of this plan?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow. Weasley and Potter shared a look.

"Ahh, you can't know about it. Not just yet."

Hermione was starting to dread the sound of this. If not even Draco knew about it...

The blond merely shrugged. "Whatever. Just don't push him too far."

Weasley and Potter shared another look, though this time it was devious.

* * *

><p>Classes that day went far too quickly for Hermione's liking. She was dreading her meeting with professor McGonagall that night, and only hoped she wouldn't lose her prefects badge over the incident with Lavender Browns shower water turning to mud. It had seemed like a good idea at the time...<p>

Dear Merlin. She was spending far too much time with Draco.

The only good thing that had come from today was that Draco's mood was back to normal, and he had caught her on her way to Charms and pulled her into a broom cupboard for a quick snogging session, which she thoroughly enjoyed.

That good mood had completely disappeared by 8pm, however, when she trudged unenthusiastically toward Professor McGonagall's office. The woman was waiting for her outside the entrance to the room, and when Hermione arrived she showed her into a spacious room with a desk and roaring fire. Hermione had been here many times, though mostly on good terms.

As they sat on opposite sides of the large, parchment covered desk, the professor eyed Hermione with disappointment.

"I'm very surprised at your behaviour, Miss Granger. I thought you were above such childish acts."

Professor McGonagall was Hermione's favourite teacher, and any form of criticism from her was taken to heart. She dropped her eyes in shame and stared at her lap.

"I'm sorry Professor, I was just a little stressed. I guess she got on my last nerve." It was pitiful excuse, but it was a true one.

"I understand you are friends with Mr Zabini, and his accident impacted you; but as a prefect, and a role model for other students, you must learn to control your temper and act in accordance to the rules of the school."

Hermione nodded. "I understand that, professor. It won't happen again."

The professor seemed to take her word, and nodded. "Very well. I can only turn a blind eye so many times, and I'm afraid this time I must punish you for your behaviour. Because of your clean record, it won't be as harsh. But it will involve detentions after dinner for the next week."

Hermione let out a breath of relief. Detentions were better than losing her prefects badge. After a quick cup of tea with her favourite teacher, Hermione left feeling a lot more relaxed than she had previously.

She strode down the corridor, toward the staircase and only paused when she saw two people standing at the end of the corridor.

The first she recognised at Theodore Nott; she scowled at the sight. The second was an older man. She assumed it was Nott's father, considering his curly black hair and similar physique. They were standing just outside Dumbledore's office, so she assumed the man had flooed in to see his son. She turned to exit when she heard an interesting snippet of their conversation.

"-you should have spoken to me about it first. Quidditch is a waste of time, a sport, not a career."

Hermione's ears pricked with interest. Nott's father wasn't happy he'd gotten the Quidditch Captaincy?

"Quidditch captains don't have time for school work, do you understand? You're supposed to follow my footsteps in the family business, which means you need good grades."

"I know, father, but I can't quit, there's no one to replace me." Nott pleaded.

Hermione scoffed. Of course he wouldn't tell his father the unfair tactics he used to get the position. Though, the man might be proud of that.

"I understand that," The older man responded gruffly, "you've taken on a responsibility. However, if your grades slip at all from straight O's, I will be seeing Professor Snape and pulling you out of the team myself, got it?"

Nott nodded. "Yes, father."

They didn't exchange anymore words as Nott's father turned and entered Dumbledore's office. No friendly goodbyes, not even a nod.

When the man disappeared, Nott leaned his back against the stone wall, and rubbed his hands tiredly across his face. Hermione took this opportunity to step out of the shadows.

"I figured your father was the one pushing you to get on the Quidditch team," she commented as she walked towards him. He didn't jump at all at her sudden appearance, much to her disappointment, and it made her wonder if he knew she was there the whole time.

Nott's head rolled to the side as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "I didn't pick you as the eaves-dropping type."

Hermione shrugged. "I guess Draco's having a bad influence on me."

Nott scoffed, but didn't say anything. He turned away, though his back didn't leave the stone it was against.

"So why did you do it?" Hermione asked curiously. Nott turned back to her. "Why did you go to such lengths to join the team when not even your father is encouraging you?"

He shrugged easily. "Because I wanted too." And it really was as simple as that.

Hermione had assumed that all pure-bloods were merely puppets for their parents. To be defiant against their rules, or do something because you merely wanted to, was unheard of. Hermione, in that moment, wondered why it was so easy for Nott, but so hard for Draco.

She was taken aback by his simple answer. "Oh," she replied quite dumbly. He smirked at her.

"Not everyone has diabolical intentions for their actions, Granger," he said with amusement. Hermione scowled back.

"I know that," she snapped. "But what are you going to do if your grades drop?"

He looked away shaking his head. "You want your little boyfriend to get his position back, don't you? Well sorry to disappoint, Granger, but I don't plan to let that happen any time soon."

He kicked off the wall and began strolling down the corridor away from her; Hermione scowled at his back, hating that he predicted her so well. Once he had disappeared, she continued on her way toward the Gryffindor common room.

She found Neville sitting in their usual corner, tapping his fingers rapidly on the arm of his chair. When he spotted her he practically jumped out of his seat in an attempt to pull her into the chair opposite. Hermione was worried something horrible had happened. Neville had never looked so peaky.

"Neville, are you ok? What's happened?" Hermione asked, as she seated herself across from him.

"Hannah, she-she-," Hermione eyed him sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, Neville. You'll find someone else." She was certain the Hufflepuff liked Neville...

He eyed her quizzically. "What? No, she said yes! I just don't know what to do now." He went back to panicking silently in front of her. Hermione stared at him, unable to believe what she was seeing. Neville was freaking out because the girl he liked said yes to him.

"Would it be strange if I just went and held her hand? Do you think she'd care?"

The pleading look on his face was too much for Hermione and she broke out into uncontrollable giggles. Neville didn't seem to share the sentiment, as he stared at her, stricken.

"Hermione! I'm not kidding; I need you to help me! We've only been dating for an hour and I'm already worried I'll ruin it!"

This only made Hermione break into a fresh round of guffaws. Sometimes, Neville could work himself up over nothing. He really had nothing to worry about.

* * *

><p>"Now, Mr. Zabini," Madam Pomfrey walked toward him carrying a pile of fabric, "here's a fresh set of clothes. Please do try to be careful. You need to take it easy."<p>

Blaise nodded, as he grabbed the piled of clothes out of the woman's arms. "I'll be on my best behaviour, Poppy." He assured her with a grin.

The nurse gave him a disapproving look, but didn't comment as she turned and headed back into her office. She had, after all, been a Ravenclaw in her time at Hogwarts. Blaise had an odd power over Ravenclaws.

That thought only got him thinking about the only Ravenclaw who had ever caught his eye; Luna. He dressed a little too enthusiastically for that time of the morning, and raced out the hospital door with his shirt barely buttoned up.

He reached the Great hall doors in record time, breathing heavily. A few people outside greeted him politely, welcoming him back. He thanked them, but really the only person he had interest in seeing was Luna.

He pushed open the doors, and it only took a few seconds for him to be hounded and practically tackled by three heavy bodies. They began pulling him towards the Slytherin table, spouting things he wasn't really listening to. His mind and attention were on the bright blue eyes of the girl at the Ravenclaw table smiling at him.

"I hate to leave you boys, but I have a calling elsewhere."

His friends looked at him quizzically before following his gaze. They groaned as soon as they understood his comment.

"Fine," Potter whined dramatically, "leave your mates so you can go snog a girl!"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I'm stuck with you gits in class all day, give me a break."

The other three chuckled, before pushing him off towards the Ravenclaw table. Luna scooted over to make room for him as he approached, ignoring the girl next to her who scowled at being closer to the eccentric girl than she was before.

He slipped into the seat and immediately pulled Luna close to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"I missed you," he said quietly in her ear.

She smiled at him cheekily. "How could you miss me when you were unconscious?"

He chuckled. "I don't know, but I did. Now tell me everything that's happened while I was gone. How did you go in that Transfiguration essay?"

The two of them spent the rest of the morning chatting together. When the bell rang for the start of classes, Blaise reluctantly left Luna to head to his first class, Charms.

* * *

><p>The four Silver Marauders walked toward their classroom, and found people still parted in the corridors to let them through. Blaise almost scoffed at the sight. He thought by now they'd stop treating them like royalty.<p>

"So, Zabini," Potter began as they stepped inside the Charms classroom, "any lasting injuries?"

Blaise patted himself down. "Nope, I'm good as new."

"Great, now please come join the Quidditch team, Culver is a right pain in the ass." Potter whined; Weasly nodded vigorously in agreement. They sat in their seats, and began unpacking their parchment and equipment from their bags.

"Culver?" Blaise questioned curiously, "Did he make the team? I thought for sure Nott would have it."

Potter and Weasley exchanged glances, while Draco was oddly quiet, playing with his quill.

"Ah, Nott is on the team," Weasley clarified, looking as though he wasn't sure how to word it. Blaise furrowed his brow in confusion.

"I don't get it. Doesn't that mean there's four Chaser's? What's that about?" he directed his question at Draco, but the boy merely continued staring at his quill quietly.

"Draco's not on the team, anymore," Potter said quickly.

"What!" Blaise cried, causing a few people around them to look over curiously. "What do you mean, he's the captain! What the hell, Draco?"

The blond shrugged. "I gave it up."

Blaise sputtered in disbelief. Quidditch was Draco's favourite thing in the world, there was no way he'd ever give it up.

"What? Why? That's ridiculous." Blaise was getting annoyed at Draco's lack of response. He should care about this.

"That's sort of what we need to talk to you about, mate," Weasley interjected. Blaise turned to the red head expectantly.

"Well, go on then, let's hear it."

Weasley and Potter shared another wary look, before diving into their explanation.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, Blaise sat behind his desk, not focusing on the charm they were practicing, but trying to will himself not to hex Theodore Nott's head off from his place across the room. He had never felt such a need for revenge in his life, but right now he wanted nothing more than to get Nott back.<p>

The idiot had almost killed Blaise, all because he wanted a spot on the team. He'd stolen Draco's captaincy, which caused the teen to leave the team altogether, and he had then threatened to tell people about Draco and Hermione's relationship.

The only good thing to come of it was that at least if he told anyone now, he'd break out into thousands of painful boils.

"We're going to do something about it, right?" Blaise asked, turning towards his friends. They shrugged and Draco didn't do anything at all.

Blaise sighed. Why were they so unwilling to get Nott back for his actions? This wasn't like them at all.

It seemed as though Draco were still a little sensitive about the whole issue, especially since he didn't seem to want to talk about it. Perhaps in a couple of weeks, he would be over it enough to get some revenge.

On their way to dinner that night, Potter and Weasley pulled him aside, leaving Draco to walk on his own to the Great hall. The latter didn't seem to notice, as he continued on without even realising.

"What is it?" Blaise asked, curious as to what the pair was up to.

"We've got a plan to get Nott back for what he did," Weasley began, "we'll tell you, just don't tell Draco what it is. He doesn't want to push Nott, in case he tells anyone about him and Granger."

Blaise nodded in understanding. "What's the plan then?"

Potter looked around, before leaning forward slightly. "We've been talking to the others on the team, except Culver of course, and they agree that they want Draco back as Captain. Nott's just too controlling, he doesn't let us play to our strengths. Anyway, they agreed to stop turning up to practices, or if they do, not to do anything; not to listen to his instruction. It'll stress Nott out, and maybe he'll give up the Captaincy."

Blaise looked sceptical. "You think that'd work?"

Potter shrugged. "It's worth a try isn't it? I, personally, am sick of Draco's mood as well."

Weasley nodded in agreement. "It'll work eventually. Nott doesn't have what it takes to be Captain. He doesn't deserve it."

Blaise agreed with that. Draco had worked his way on the team for years to get to that spot. It was the one thing his father had no influence over. Draco was skilled at Quidditch and he worked hard; harder than Nott. He deserved to be Captain.

"Alright. Sounds like a good plan. Let's hope it works."

And so the next day, during their Quidditch practice, they would set their plan in motion.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hi guys, so this is a sort of filler chapter. I still hope it's enjoyable though. I know a lot of you are wondering about updates and such. I used to update once every week, but I just moved out of home, and so things are going to be a lot busier. I'm going to try and make the updates once every two weeks. I'm really sorry it's just hard to find the time to write now, and I like to make my chapters pretty long, so yeah. I do plan on continuing the story, so don't worry. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Cheers guys,**

**Leni**


	20. Chapter 20

_**Chapter 20**_

_****...in which things get put right, and things just go wrong._

* * *

><p>The sun shone across the Black lake, causing golden streaks to ripple across the surface each time the water was broken. As Blaise stared at the beautiful sight from his position under the Beech tree with his friends, he couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to never come back to this. To have <em>died<em>.

It was only a couple of weeks ago that Blaise had awoken from his coma to find out that he'd nearly been killed in a not-so-accidental Quidditch accident, and ever since then he had been a lot more grateful of the things he used to take for granted.

One of those things was the beauty of Hogwarts and the surrounding ground. He'd never really taken the time to look, but it really was a magical place. It was sad to think that after the end of this year, he would only have one year left.

His days were so busy that he'd often had little time to stop and relax. Since his accident, his friends had been reluctant to let him out of their sight. They insisted he join them in whatever they did, which often meant sitting around bored.

Luna hadn't been so forceful, unfortunately. Blaise would've quite enjoyed the unwavering attention of his eccentric girlfriend. It seemed, however, that it was he who always wanted to spend more time with her. It seemed with Luna, there was no possible way to play it cool. She was just naturally cooler at everything. It also seemed though, that she didn't mind Blaise's constant attention.

He had also spent a lot of time with Hermione in the library, doing homework and assignments together when Draco wasn't demanding her constant attention. Since he was no longer playing Quidditch, and had a lot more time on his hands, Draco was around a lot more. Hermione didn't seem to mind, in fact, Blaise had noticed her eyes had become rather glazed over when she looked at him lately. Blaise didn't know what that was about and he didn't particularly want to know. He was just glad they seemed to be getting along, even if they still hadn't made their relationship public.

Blaise honestly wondered if they ever would. He understood it was different to his and Luna's relationship, but if you really cared, wasn't it worth it?

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a loud guffaw coming from beside him. It was Potter, eyeing something that must have been of great amusement. Following the gaze of the bespectacled boy, Blaise saw the scene that had caused the laughter.

Across the lawn, Nott stood in full Quidditch uniform, yelling rather loudly at two of the other team members, who were notably not wearing their own.

"I told you three times in the past two days we were having a practise today!" The black haired Slytherin growled angrily, "You bloody well knew it! You can be replaced you know?"

The two other boys shrugged.

"You're a shit Captain anyway." One of them commented before they both walked off.

Nott looked as though a vein were going to pop in his neck because of his anger. Next to him, his friend Culver stood leaning on his broom looking thoroughly bored.

The sight only seemed to make Potter's laughter louder, and soon Weasley joined in. Blaise snuck a glance at Draco to find him ripping up a blade of grass with a blank expression on his face. It seemed, even after all this time, he was still hurt about his loss of the captaincy.

"Oi, Nott! Looks as though you don't even have a team to Captain!" Weasley bellowed across the lawn. Nott turned at the sound and immediately his face darkened. In a few quick, angry strides he was standing less the 3 feet away from the group, glaring at Draco.

"This is all your doing, isn't it?" The teen hissed. "Trying to get your position back? Well, I hope you realise if you get it back there's no reason for me to stay quiet about you and the mudblood."

Draco barely turned his head to look at the other boy. "Piss off, Nott. Don't try to blame me for the fact you can't Captain a team- and don't talk about Hermione." He shot Nott a threatening look.

Weasley and Potter broke out into amused laughter once more at Draco's previous comment, which only seemed to fuel Nott's anger. He turned his attention to the two laughing boys.

"If you don't turn up to practice tomorrow, you're off the team." The teen threatened, clear anger written on his face, "I could easily find someone to replace you.

Weasley scoffed at the threat. "If you kick us off the team, Nott, I guarantee the rest of the team will leave too. You can't just come in and try to control us!"

Nott merely rolled his eyes. "Be there, or you're gone."

With that he turned and strode away from the group, leaving Weasley and Potter to scowl after him.

"He's going to regret ever messing with us," Weasley said darkly to the group.

An impatient sigh sounded from the side, and the three boys turned to Draco to find him glaring back at them.

"I don't know what you're pulling," the blonde began, with his brows furrowed angrily, "but bloody well give it up. Nott knows too much and I don't want to risk pissing him off." He looked away, back to the blade of grass in his hand. "I made my choice. And I chose Granger, ok?"

Blaise tried to decipher if there was a hint of regret in Draco's voice or expression. There wasn't, just acceptance.

"But you shouldn't have to choose, mate!" Potter argued back, "He won't last long at this rate-,"

"Just leave it!" Draco snapped angrily, effectively silencing his friends' protests. He stood abruptly and strode off, back towards the entrance to the castle.

His friends watched him leave with stunned expressions on their faces. After a moment, Weasley spoke.

"Bloody hell, he says he doesn't care, but it's pretty obvious he does."

Blaise sighed. He knew where Draco was coming from. He, himself, would give up anything for Luna; even if it was something he loved the most.

"Just leave it," Blaise urged, echoing Draco's previous outburst, "If he wanted to get revenge, he'd be planning it with you. Nott could ruin Draco's whole life with this. I mean, I think perhaps it's time to tell people, but clearly they don't."

Potter sighed, running his hand roughly through his hair, "But Nott might not even have proof! No one will believe him! We can't just let him get away with it!"

Blaise shrugged. "We don't know what proof he has, and even if he doesn't have any, one rumour around here can ruin someone's life. Draco and Hermione would have eyes on them constantly; one wrong move and the whole school would be buzzing, and no doubt that'd get back to Draco's father. We all know firsthand what he's capable of."

They shared a dark look between them. It was no secret between the group that Lucius Malfoy's disciplinary techniques were quite harsh; they'd all seen it firsthand.

"I suppose you're right," Weasley conceded with a sigh, "but I still don't want to follow Nott's orders. I know now what Draco was talking about, he's too controlling with the way we play."

Blaise thought for a moment. If Weasley and Potter didn't want to play, would Nott suspect it was Draco's doing? He supposed since Nott assured them they could be replaced, that they would be. However, it was no secret that Potter, Weasley and Draco were three of the best players in Slytherin; losing all three would likely have disastrous effects on the team.

"Are you really thinking about quitting?" Blaise questioned his two friends. They both shared a look, before nodding.

"As long as Nott is Captain, I can't enjoy playing," Potter admitted. Weasley nodded in agreement.

"Nott is _not_ Captain material. He's gonna make a joke of the team. I'd rather not be in it when that happens."

Blaise nodded slowly. "As long as this isn't some plan to get him to quit the Captaincy...?" He eyed them both suspiciously.

They both shook their heads. "If Draco doesn't want to, we won't." Potter assured the Italian.

"We were only trying to get him back on the team because we were gonna quit otherwise," Weasley informed him, "It's horrible without a decent captain."

Blaise nodded in understanding. "Alright. You guys better go and tell Nott his team just lost two of its best players."

The two boys shared a look, before standing and walking toward the castle, leaving Blaise to sit under the Beech tree alone. Unsurprisingly, his thoughts immediately turned to the whereabouts of Luna Lovegood.

* * *

><p>The girl in question could be found seated across from Hermione at a table in the library. They were both working on separate homework, and chatting occasionally. Hermione had just finished and was now staring absent-mindedly out the window, while Luna's quill scratched away on her parchment.<p>

Hermione's thoughts were on Draco. She couldn't stop thinking about that night in their special room, where they had been so close to getting intimate, but only her apprehension had stopped them.

She had never been that close with a boy before, and it was overwhelming and exciting at the same time. The thing that scared her the most was that she had _wanted_ to be with him, but she felt that she should wait. At least until she knew where their relationship was going.

The thought of Draco, completely naked above her, thrusting into her, hard, and letting out groans of pleasure set her heartbeat racing, and a delicious red flush spread across her cheeks.

It was only when the noise of Luna's quill ceased, that Hermione turned to find Luna staring at her with an almost amused expression on her face.

"I wonder who you're thinking about?" Luna questioned rhetorically. The fact that she was so obvious in her thoughts and expressions only caused Hermione's blush to deepen.

Luna had just opened her mouth to comment, when a figure stepped out from behind the adjacent shelf, and leant against it.

"Speaking of...," Luna mumbled with a smile. Hermione shot her a silencing look, before turning to Draco.

"You know, you really should be more careful about associating with me so openly in a public place." She said, matter-of-factly.

Draco raised an eyebrow and looked around the completely empty library. "I hate to break it to you, Granger, but you're the only one who spends your weekends in the library. Other people have better things to do."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the blonde. Despite her feelings for him, he could really be a shit-stirring ass at times.

"I have better things to do!" She argued back. How dare he suggest she had no life.

He smirked, causing her heart rate to speed up once again at the smouldering look on his face. "I know, that's why I came to get you."

Hermione eyed him for a moment, before turning to Luna. Before she could even open her mouth, the other girl had spoken.

"Go ahead." She encouraged with a smile, "I'm nearly done with this anyway."

Hermione felt guilty for leaving Luna, but her opportunities with Draco had been rather slim and they only ever really had the weekends...

"Ok," Hermione agreed, as she began packing up her books and parchment. Draco moved forward and began helping her.

"Oh, Loony," he began suddenly turning toward the blonde haired girl. Hermione scowled at him for his use of the name, but Luna didn't even flinch. She seemed to have come to accept Draco's rudeness as an inevitable part of his personality.

"Blaise is down by the lake under the Beech tree," he continued unaware of Hermione's disapproval, "no doubt he's waiting for you."

Luna smiled slightly. "I'll go find him in a few minutes," she turned back to her parchment, and began scribbling faster than she had been before.

Hermione smiled at the sight of the younger girls' haste. She knew the feeling; the ends of her essays had begun almost illegible scribbles when she knew she was meeting Draco afterwards.

"You coming?" She turned to find Draco waiting for her, with her bag over his shoulder. His hair was slightly tousled from his morning out in the breeze, and his top shirt button was undone. Hermione's breath left her chest for a moment at the sight.

She came back to reality at the feeling of Draco's large hand wrapping around her wrist and pulling her along. She stumbled stupidly, her head still cloudy, he sighed in a tiresome fashion.

"Sometimes I think you've got the attention span of a pixie," he muttered as he pulled her along through the shadowed shelves, "your minds always wandering off somewhere."

Her mind only seemed to wander off when she saw him. An overwhelming sense of disbelief mixed with awe overcame her whenever she remembered that the boy grasping her hand securely, muttering about the possible illnesses that could cause a cloudy brain, was actually hers.

He was hers.

Until now, it had never felt like that. But for some reason, today felt different. Today she was relaxed enough to realise that her heart was no longer beating at its normal pace, but was sending a pounding through her head.

Today Hermione had an epiphany; because for the first time, she was really accepting, without any excuse, that she was in love with him. And all she wanted to do was tell him.

As they reached the edge of the maze of shelves he stopped pulling and turned to look at her. At her expression, he narrowed his eyes.

"Are you sick?" He questioned, as though she were keeping some secret from him, "If you're sick, I want you to go to the hospital wing, it could be serious," he looked awkward at the concern in his voice, "...only because I don't want to catch it when we snog."

He cleared his throat nervously. "I'll see you upstairs." He turned, with her bag still over his shoulder and began to walk away. She almost choked on her own tongue in her haste to call him back.

"Draco!"

He stopped mid-step and looked over his shoulder, at her anguished expression he turned fully, and walked back to her.

"You're sick aren't you? You stupid Gryffindors, and your pride. Just admit it. I can't take you to the hospital wing myself but-,"

"Draco," she said, cutting off his sentence. He paused.

"What?"

This was her opportunity to say how she felt. Her heart felt full, near bursting. She wanted to tell him; tell him how important he was to her. Tell him that she maybe, may have possibly, somehow, rather ridiculously, had fallen in love with him.

She opened her mouth to do so, but the sound of the library door opening caused Draco to push her backwards into the shelves, and pin her there with his body. He peeked around the corner at the student who'd just entered.

It was a tall girl, with long black hair and a sullen expression. Hermione didn't miss the green trim of her robes.

"It's a Slytherin," he said softly; Hermione didn't miss the sigh of relief in his voice, and suddenly all the warm sentiments in her heart disappeared with a sinking feeling in her stomach, and the only thing she felt was an unworthiness that had plagued her for weeks.

He had been worried they would be caught together, and the whole of Slytherin house would find out. She knew it was rather normal to be fearful of this, but for some reason it bothered her immensely that he would be so eager to hide their relationship, even if she would've done the same.

She was inferior to Draco and the other Slytherins. Even if he treated her as an equal now, he would never do so in front of them. She knew that's what was bothering her. It would never be ok to be with her, and he knew it. A flash of anger ran through her, and she found herself scowling at the blond in front of her as he continued to peek around the shelves at the other Slytherin passing by.

After a moment, he let out another sigh.

"She's gone into the Transfiguration section," he said softly, "I think it's safe to go now."

He turned back to her, and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her scowl. He didn't look guilty, or sorry, just confused. Typical male.

"What's wrong, Granger?" he questioned, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. The fact that he called her by her last name only fuelled her anger more.

"Nothing," she muttered, "Nothing at all."

In typical male fashion, Draco merely shrugged easily, and turned, "Let's go then, I'll meet you up at our room in ten. Make sure no one follows."

She watched with narrowed eyes and a sick feeling in her stomach as he walked away, looking completely unaffected by the world.

_This is how it will be when he leaves you._

She almost shocked herself at the sudden entrance of the thought. Where had that insecurity come from? Had she been thinking it deep down, all along?

She hated to admit it, but she really did believe that. When-if- he left her, he would probably be perfectly fine. He would go on to be the great Draco Malfoy, heir to the Slytherin fortune, great pureblood wizard, and his whole rebellious streak, when he'd had a rather secret affair with a 'mudblood' would be swept under the carpet. It would be like it never happened.

No.

Draco wouldn't do that. He had changed. He was good to her, he cared for her, and he didn't care about her blood status. No matter many how many times she chanted those words in her head, they made no difference to the strongest ones that were practically screaming at her.

_He's ashamed of you._

For the first time since they had discovered their secret room, Hermione now found herself reluctant to meet Draco there. She felt vulnerable, sick, like she couldn't face him without accusing him of something terrible.

"Since when am I so paranoid?" She muttered to herself, as she massaged her temples, "I sound like Lavender Brown."

She took a deep breath, and stepped out of the shelves and began walking toward the door. She would go and meet Draco, and not bring up any of these feelings. They hadn't discussed any future between them, and she wasn't sure they even had one, but she wasn't going to ruin things.

She passed the empty librarians desk on the way out, where the black haired Slytherin girl was waiting to borrow a pile of three or four books. The girl turned at the sound of Hermione's footsteps, and instantly scowled when she recognised her.

Hermione was almost taken aback by the look of disgust on the other girls' face, before she was verbally slapped by the muttering of two hushed, but deafening words.

"_Disgusting mudblood."_

The word echoed in Hermione's head as she stepped out the library doors, and she found herself racing rather quickly through the corridor towards the staircase. When she reached the landing near the stairs, she stopped and let out a rather ragged breath.

Everyone just kept reminding her of why she wasn't good enough.

She looked up through the maze of moving stairs, and could almost imagine Draco on the second floor, tapping his foot rather impatiently as he waited for her. The thought almost made her laugh, but it also wanted to make her scream at the same time.

_You're not good enough._

She took off. Not upstairs toward Draco, who was waiting for her to meet him at their secret room, but she ran down stairs. She concentrated on her footsteps echoing of the walls, not bothering to look up at the portraits as they berated her for her lack of care, or for the random complaints as she bumped into students on her way down.

She made it into the empty entrance hall, huffing and puffing from her exhaustion. She didn't even know where she was going. She just wanted to get away.

"What has you so out of breath?"

She barely contained her groan, as she turned and came face to face with Theodore Nott who had just left the entrance to the dungeons. His hair was damp from showering; obviously he'd just finished Quidditch practice.

"I ran here," she said haughtily, knowing that it sounded ridiculous. She was rather annoyed that she'd even answered him in the first place.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and looked her up and down, taking in her rising and falling chest, ragged breath, and the light sheen of sweat across her forehead.

"You must be disgustingly unfit, Granger," he said, not trying to contain the look of disdain on his face. She scowled.

"Yes, well, not all of us have made it onto the Quidditch team- oh, that's right, you didn't make it on out of skill, you blackmailed your way there." She was quite pleased when she saw his jaw set in anger.

"What would you know about Quidditch, you little mudblood?" He hissed angrily.

There was that word again. Funny how it kept haunting her.

She felt her face grow red with anger, and before she knew what was happening, she had stepped forward, pulled her arm back and sent her balled fist flying straight into Nott's nose, which broke with a rather resounding 'crack'.

Hermione hand immediately stung, and she realised that it wasn't his nose that had broken, though it looked rather sore, but that it was actually her hand.

She immediately fell to the ground, cupping her sore limb in her good arm. "Crud. Crud. Crud. Crud. Crud. Crud. _Cruuuuudddd_." She muttered to herself in a pained wail that was close to tears. She couldn't even be embarrassed that she was muttering a non-existent swearword, while almost crying in front of Theodore Nott.

The boy in question, who had been cupping his nose, while looking rather shocked at the events that had just taken place, kneeled down in front of her, and couldn't seem to resist the smirk that came to his face, despite his red and slightly throbbing nose.

He let out an almost amused sigh. "You really are pathetic, Granger. Do you really think you're big enough to hurt me? You're like a squirrel in comparison to me." He chuckled.

She sent him a filthy look through watery eyes at his comparison of her to a squirrel. "You broke my hand," she accused weakly. The pain was becoming too much.

He gave her a lopsided smile, and she found herself frowning in confusion.

"You know, you're quite cute when you're all injured and pathetic."

She stood up quickly, ignoring the shooting pain in her hand. "How dare you! You-! You- sod!"

He followed her standing motion, and merely raised an eyebrow at her anger, his face back to its normal blank expression. "Take it as a compliment Granger; it'll be the only one you'll ever get from me. Still, I bet it's more than Malfoy gives you."

She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, when a feminine voice behind her interrupted.

"Hermione? What's going on here?" It was Ginny Weasley. The red head had been on her way outside when she'd come upon the scene between the two.

The girl stepped forward, her eyes landing on Hermione's injured hand. She immediately turned to him with a vicious expression.

"What did you do to her, Nott?" The girl accused, her voice strong and fiery. Hermione was quite impressed and slightly jealous that she didn't have the ability to be so intimidating. Nott didn't seem to share the sentiment, because he barely flinched at Ginny's threatening stare.

He merely rolled his eyes, as though he were bored with the whole incident. "_I_ didn't do anything; _she_ punched _me_ in the nose."

Ginny's expression faltered, and she turned to Hermione looking rather shocked. "Really?"

Hermione merely nodded weakly, her throbbing hand was becoming too much to handle. She needed to go to the hospital wing soon.

The sound of loud, chiming guffaws broke Hermione thoughts away from her hand, and she looked up to find Ginny bent double, clutching her stomach as she laughed. Nott stood staring at her with a raised eyebrow, looking rather unimpressed.

"Good one, Hermione," the red head gasped in between her laughter, "a lot of people have wanted to do that for a long time. Shame you got injured, though." She added quickly frowning at Hermione's now swollen and bruising hand.

Nott's eyes narrowed at Ginny's words, and he crossed his arms across his chest while scowling at her.

"Do you forget I have a Quidditch game against your team next week, Weasley? I can quite easily make you a target of our beaters."

Ginny stood up to her full height at Nott's threat, which unfortunately was only an inch or two taller than Hermione, and stared him in the eye, no hint of fear present in her features.

"If your team intends to play dirty, Nott, then rest assured I'll be telling my teammates to do the same. That's if you even have a team left by then, from what I've heard, people seem to think you're unworthy of the Captaincy. Can't blame them really."

Nott's face was now red, whether from anger or humiliation, Hermione didn't know, all she was focused on was Nott's hand grasping tightly at his wand; Ginny's was already out and pointing at the boys chest.

"Put those wands away," Hermione warned, though her voice wasn't as authoritative as she'd hoped due to the pain from her injury, "I'm a prefect, I'll take house points."

Both students seemed to ignore her orders, as Nott's wand was pointed at Ginny's own chest.

"You'll get detention!" Hermione continued. Why had she even been made a prefect, she couldn't even control this situation.

"I'm not afraid to hex a girl, Weasley," Nott threatened, his voice calm with only a hint of malice. Ginny smiled back devilishly.

"Good," he agreed, huskily, "Because I have a good one in store for you and it's no fun if it's only me playing."

Nott's eyebrows shot up slightly at her words, and his wand hand faltered. Hermione stood gaping at the younger girl. Was she flirting with Nott?

How..._ruthless._

Whatever plan Ginny had in mind, it seemed to be working. The cheeky smile she was sending him, paired with her words that were border lining on flirtation, seemed to take Nott's focus away from their duel, and he was now standing, rather awkwardly, looking as though he'd just walked in on her naked.

"You're cunning," he said after a moment, his voice lacking malice; he was merely stating a fact, "You should've been in Slytherin."

Ginny shrugged happily, her wand was no longer pointed at Nott, and she had a small, pleased smile on her face. She knew she'd won.

Hermione suddenly realised something about Ginny, everything she did was about being the best and winning. No wonder it was so hard for her when she lost both Blaise and Draco to Luna and Hermione. It would have been like a failure.

Hermione shook her head trying to banish those thoughts. She wasn't about to start making excuses for Ginny.

"Why thank you," Ginny said teasingly, "Though I'm quite happy being in Gryffindor. I can't help but notice that all Slytherins are rather aggressive."

Surprisingly, instead of scowling at her, Nott smirked. "Well, we like to think of that as a good thing."

"Perhaps it is, sometimes," Ginny said with a wink. Hermione once again stood gaping at the scene.

What the bloody hell was going on here?

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" A low voice bellowed from behind them. The three students turned to find Weasley and Potter standing a few feet away, looking both disgusted and horrified at the close proximity between Ginny and Nott.

Good old Ron Weasley; he always seemed to convey what everyone what thinking.

Ginny sighed tiredly and stepped away from Nott. "Hermione and Nott had a little altercation, I merely stepped in."

The two boys turned to Hermione, then back to Nott, then back to Hermione. "Did he do anything?"

Ginny shook her head. She didn't know about the 'mudblood' comment. "No, I don't think so, but Hermione did land a good punch in his nose. I think she broke her hand though."

Weasley's gaze moved down to Hermione hand and he frowned. Potter clicked his tongue.

"Malfoy won't be too happy with you for that, Nott."

Nott looked at the bespectacled boy with a bemused expression. "S_he_ punched _me_, you idiot."

Potter shrugged. "It's still your fault she's hurt. Gin, take her to the hospital wing, get Madam Pomfrey to fix that, we need to talk to Nott here about something."

Hermione turned, not waiting for Ginny to reach her, and began walking toward the staircase, her injured hand cupped to her chest. It wasn't until she felt and arm loop around her own that she turned to find Ginny walking by her side, looking straight ahead.

"It's only an injured hand," Hermione pointed out to the girl, "I can still walk."

The red head shrugged. "I can still help."

They walked up the first floor stairs in silence, before Hermione spoke.

"That was quite something back there," She began tentatively; "I've never seen Nott look so uncomfortable before."

Ginny chuckled. "Yes, well, boys become rather predictable after a while. Flirt with then callously and they turn into fumbling messes."

Hermione could only take Ginny's words for it, she wouldn't know firsthand.

They continued up to the hospital wing in silence, with Ginny only muttering the occasional "Hi," to students as they passed. Ginny stayed by Hermione's side while Madam Pomfrey worked on her hand, and the girl even walked Hermione back to the Gryffindor dormitories afterward, where they parted ways and Hermione headed over to Neville's side for a game of chess.

She was so preoccupied that she completely forgot about the blonde boy upstairs waiting for her outside their room.

* * *

><p>Blaise walked into the Slytherin dorms that night with a large smile on his face. He had spent the afternoon with Luna by the beech tree, feeding the giant squid, accompanied with the occasional snogging session. He didn't understand all his previous fears about Ginny and their relationship.<p>

He knew who he wanted, and that person was Luna. He'd known it all along.

His smile faltered slightly as he noticed the expressions on his friend faces. Potter and Weasley were looking miserable, while Draco looked stressed and slightly annoyed.

"What's going on?" he asked tentatively as he sat at the end of his bed.

"We quit the Quidditch team," Potter explained. Blaise nodded, he already knew that was happening.

"Nott was not happy at all," Weasley continued. Blaise nodded again.

"He blamed Draco," Potter said, motioning toward the blonde. Blaise glanced over to find Draco staring silently at the wall.

"He approached Draco, after we'd explained how Hermione was hurt from punching Nott in the face," Weasley sat up, resting against the headboard.

Hermione had punched Nott in the face?

"Needless to say, neither was happy when they met up, and Draco ended up punching Nott in the face himself. Broken nose, and a black eye," Potter explained.

"Now Malfoy's worried that Nott's gonna tell everyone 'bout him and Granger, oh, and Granger stood him up. Yeah, I think that's everything." Weasley finished with a sigh.

"Bloody hell," Blaise muttered. How much had he missed? "Well I don't think we need to worry about Nott, he's under that vow, remember?"

Weasley sighed again. "That's what I keep saying, but he won't listen."

Blaise turned to Draco and took in his overall appearance for the first time. His hair was messy and falling in his eyes, obviously from his scuffle with Nott. His shirt was ripped at the top with two missing buttons, and his fist was bloody and cut.

His expression matched his appearance; he looked completely miserable as he sat staring at the wall. Blaise knew the cause of his mood had less to do with his fight with Nott, and more to do with Hermione's odd behaviour.

"So..." Blaise began hesitantly, unsure where to begin, "maybe a teacher asked Hermione to do a favour for them...that might be why she didn't meet you." He suggested hopefully. Draco's expression didn't falter.

"I mean, you know Hermione," he continued, "she's a little teacher's pet." He chuckled; Draco merely continued to stare at the wall.

Blaise sighed. "Look, mate, I think you're worrying for nothing. She'll be back to her old self tomorrow. I imagine she was a bit shaken up about her little run in with Nott...And I don't think you need to worry about Nott, he's still got the captaincy."

"He just needs to find a new team by next week's game," Potter chimed in with a smirk.

Blaise sighed. Things were getting far too complicated these days. If only Draco and Hermione had been more careful in the first place, then Nott would never have gotten involved. It was pointless to think of such things. What's done was done, and there was no changing it.

"Look just give it 'til tomorrow, mate," Blaise assured the blond, in a last attempt to appease his mood, "I'm sure things will be fine."

At least he hoped they would be.

* * *

><p>Hermione found herself feeling rather dreamlike as she walked to Potions that next morning. It had been the first night in a long time that she hadn't spent with Draco in their secret room, and something worried her about that fact. Like it was signalling the beginning of something; or the end.<p>

She pushed that thought out of her mind as she made her way down the dungeon corridor. She was at least fifteen minutes early, and no doubt she would be the only one waiting. She didn't care though; she was far too lost in her own thoughts to make conversation with others anyway.

Surprisingly, she was not the only one early to the Potions classroom when she turned the corner. Outside, talking in rather snippy voices were Nott and professor Snape. Hermione paused behind the corner, not wanting to approach when both looked as though they would hex her for merely being there.

After a moment, Snape said one last sentence, Nott nodded, and the Professor entered the classroom to finish setting up his lesson, leaving Nott to stand outside in the cold corridor with a rather stressed expression on his face.

It was only when Hermione noticed the bruises under each of his eyes that she stepped forward from her spot around the corner, and headed toward the teen. She hadn't thought her pathetic punch could do so much damage, but apparently she didn't know her own strength. A wave of guilt hit her; she'd never been a violent person, and she didn't want to start.

As her footstep echoed off the stone floor, Nott turned at the sound, and recognising who it was he rolled his eyes tiredly and turned away. Hermione didn't let this little show of attitude get to her; he may be an ass, but she wasn't going to lower herself to his level.

She stopped a couple of feet away from where the tall boy stood with his bag slung over his shoulder.

"Nott," she began, trying to will her voice to sound strong and confident, "I apologise."

Nott turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "Apologise for what, squirrel?"

She tried to ignore the annoyance that washed over her at that comment, and was sure that the only sign of her calm demeanour breaking was a small twitch of her jaw. She cleared her throat, and continued.

"I'm sorry for punching you in the face," she said as sincerely as possible, though it may have come off rather insincere now, "I didn't realise my own strength." She nodded towards his bruised eyes.

Surprisingly, instead of scoffing or getting angry, Nott began to chuckle rather loudly.

"You think your puny little arms could do this?" He asked, his voice full of mirth, "Don't kid yourself, squirrel."

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest. He was quite talented at making her angry.

"Well unless you're such an ass that someone else would want to punch you, then yes, I assume it was me." She spat, all attempts at politeness gone.

Nott rolled his eyes, his smile slipping from his face. "It was your pathetic little boyfriend, Granger, seems it was my fault you decided to punch me and hurt your hand."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again. Draco had done that?

"Oh, well...I'm sorry," he said, feeling rather awkward now. Nott merely shook his head.

"Don't apologise for him, Granger, he'll get what's coming to him," Nott spat threateningly.

Hermione rounded on him. "Don't you think you've done enough? You got his prefect badge, and the Quidditch captaincy, just leave him alone. Whatever stupid rivalry you've got going on, you're the only one making yourself look pathetic because you can't let it go."

Nott looked her square in the eyes, his expression making Hermione think of 'the calm before the storm'.

"You think Malfoy has let this little rivalry go? It's his fault that for years, no matter how well I did at Quidditch tryouts, that I wouldn't make the team. He runs around, thinking he owns the place because of his father's name and reputation. He plays just as dirty as me; Potter and Weasley have quit the team, and now I have to find replacements for next week's game, who do you think made that happen? He just uses people for his own gain, Granger, if you're dumb enough to fall for his charm then that's your problem, but don't think I'm going to."

He finished his rant breathless and red faced. Hermione stood staring at him in shock. Potter and Weasley had quit the team? Surely that had nothing to do with Draco, though it was hard to believe that it didn't.

Still, that didn't give Nott any right to go on like this, on some sort of revenge spree. It was ridiculous.

"You can always find replacements," Hermione told him, barely containing a scoff at the ridiculousness of it all, "It's only Quidditch, after all."

Nott cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow. "Seems a lot of people take Quidditch seriously. Professor Snape takes it very seriously, for example. He's not too happy that over half the team has quit since I took on the captaincy, which he was already reluctant to pass to me in the first place. He's so unimpressed that he told me if Slytherin don't win this game, then he's taking the captaincy away."

Hermione shrugged, not realising the seriousness of the situation. So what if he lost the captaincy, he'd get over it.

Not sighed tiredly. "That means, Granger," he said slowly, as though speaking to a child, "that your little vow will be null and void, and I can tell people whatever I want about your little love affair with Lucius 'Pureblood Pride' Malfoy's son. What a scandal that would be." He grinned wolfishly.

Hermione's breath left her, and she felt herself begin to panic. She was not ready for people to find out about them. Draco definitely wasn't ready. Nott couldn't do this to them, but no doubt he would.

"You- please, Nott, please don't." She begged; her voice shaking with panic. He smirked.

"People are all the same, they'll disrespect you and insult you, but as soon as they want something from you they're all apologetic and pathetic," he spat bitterly, "Get out of my face, Granger, what happens, happens. It's only Quidditch after all." He gave her a pointed look, before walking inside the Potions classroom.

Hermione stood staring after him, her expression blank, despite the number of emotions and thoughts going on behind it. Nott was about to ruin everything, and it wasn't only his fault. They'd all played a part in it.

* * *

><p>By lunchtime that day, the stress had finally gotten to Hermione, and her appetite was non-existent. She'd had a rather horrible morning. Aside from her little conversation with Nott, Draco hadn't looked at her once. She almost didn't blame him for his odd behaviour. She had stood him up the day before, but she was almost angry at him for it. He shouldn't be mad at her; she was supposed to be mad at him.<p>

She sighed as she leant against the stone wall of the entrance hall corridor. Students were passing by on their way to lunch, and she had no temptation to follow their lead. She probably should eat, but it was the last thing on her mind. She was too worried.

She needed to figure out a way to prevent Nott from losing the Captaincy. Even if he didn't deserve it, it wasn't worth exposing her and Draco's relationship.

She began eyeing the crowd of students, hoping to catch a glimpse of shoulder length ebony hair. She caught sight of Blaise, walking beside Luna toward the great hall. Before he could pass she grabbed his arm and halted his steps. He turned to look over his shoulder, and his eyes flashed with recognition.

"I need to talk to you; it's important," She told him, her expression serious.

Blaise turned to Luna, who was standing patiently by his side. She smiled and nodded. "Go ahead, but I'm eating your serving of pudding."

He smiled and his eyes followed the blonde until she was out of sight. It was only then that he turned to Hermione. "Good timing, Hermione, because I've got to speak to you too."

Hermione furrowed her brow, but didn't question him as he led them out of crowded corridor into an empty one. Blaise stopped and leant against the wall before nodding at her.

"Ladies first," he prodded. Hermione took a deep breath before relaying to Blaise everything Nott had told her that morning. By the end of her explanation, she was feeling as stressed as she was previously. Blaise merely stared at her with a thoughtful expression.

"Well," he began after a moment, "I guess you guys better organise how you're going to handle Lucius Malfoy. Draco can stay at my place for breaks but-,"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione interrupted, her voice high pitched with panic, "We're not ready for people to find out. Not yet."

Blaise sighed, shaking his head. "Hermione, right now, you're as ready as you'll ever be. I think if you're not ready yet, then I don't think it's ever going to work. You've both been procrastinating for a while. Stop putting it off. It's time to jump into the deep end. This relationship between you two, it's not even real yet, not until you make it real."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. He was telling them to make it public? No. No way. They weren't ready.

"It is real," she defended, "it doesn't matter if other people know. It only matters that we know."

She had used that excuse many times, but suddenly it didn't seem as valid as it had before. Blaise gave her a disbelieving look; he knew she was making excuses.

"I know you don't really believe that," he said plainly, "you're worried that telling people will prove that it's not real. That Draco won't stick by your side when everyone knows."

She swallowed thickly, trying to dislodge the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. Blaise was right. That was exactly what she was scared off. A part of her was worried that despite all the words Draco had said to her over the course of their relationship about her blood not being important, that when it actually came down to it, when actions were all that was left, she would see that his words had really all been hopeful lies. Lies that she had clung to and believed, and still did.

"This isn't just about me and my fears," she defended, trying to ignore the part of her that knew she was lying, "this is about Draco too. There's a lot more at risk for him."

Blaise stepped off the wall, and shoved his hands in his pocket casually. His calm demeanour in this whole situation was really beginning to set her on edge.

"Draco can handle himself," Blaise assured her, "if he can't, than wouldn't you want to know now? There's no point in pretending like everything's fine, if you know deep down its probably not."

She stared at Blaise for a moment, her mind reeling. Sometimes she suspected him of entering her mind. He somehow knew exactly what her real worries were, even though she only discovered them yesterday.

It was true what Blaise was saying. Yesterday in the library, she had realised, quite horribly, that there was a chance that all Draco's words and promises would be nothing if they became public. She tried to convince herself that she wasn't ready to reveal their relationship, but in all honesty, there was nothing stopping her except Draco.

"I'm not ready, Blaise," she reiterated, pushing her thoughts to the side, "I need you to help me."

Blaise stared at her for a moment, as though he sensed her reluctance to admit the truth. After a moment, he sighed; a long drawn out sound. "What do you need me to do?"

Hermione hadn't really thought of a plan, but all she knew was that Nott needed to win this Quidditch game so professor Snape didn't sack him as Captain...

"I need you to play in the Quidditch game against Gryffindor."

It was morally wrong, yes, to encourage the team that was playing her own house to win, but if it meant keeping her secret safe for a little longer, then it wouldn't hurt, would it?

Blaise stared at her like she was nuts. "No way."

She had expected that as his initial answer, but she wasn't going to give up that easily.

"Please, Blaise," she begged, "I normally wouldn't ask this of you, especially after your injury...but I don't know what else to do. I just need Slytherin to win this one game; just so I've got more time."

He stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head. "I'm good, Hermione, but I'm not good enough to win with a team who has no keeper or seeker."

Hermione bit her lip in hesitation; she was really pushing her luck. "Well...I was thinking maybe...maybe Potter and Weasley would play again. Just for this game." She added quickly at his expression.

Blaise sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was silent for a moment, before he stepped forward.

"You know I don't agree with this, right?" he questioned, "You know I think you should just get it over with and let people find out, right?"

Hermione nodded, "I know, Blaise. But-,"

He held up his hand to silence her, having already heard her excuses. "I'll do it. I'll play."

Hermione couldn't help the relieved sigh that left her at his words. "And Potter and Weasley?" She asked after a moment, realising the team was nothing without them.

Blaise nodded. "I'll convince them."

She couldn't help but leap forward, and throw her arms around the taller boy's neck, nearly choking him in the process.

"Thank you, Blaise! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

At the sound of him gasping for air, she pulled away with a sheepish expression. "Sorry," she grinned, "I really owe you."

He shook his head, waving of her gratitude. "Don't worry about it."

With one last quick succession of thankyou's Hermione left for the great hall, her appetite back in full force. She left Blaise standing in the corridor, watching her curly hair bounce around the corner with an unreadable expression on his face.

* * *

><p>That night, Hermione found herself subconsciously making her way towards the secret room on the seventh floor. She didn't know if Draco would be there, but it felt wrong to break the ritual two nights in a row, even if he wasn't.<p>

She was quite surprised when she rounded the corner and found Draco leaning against the stone wall, obviously waiting for her. She couldn't help but grin at the sight. At the sound of her footsteps he turned and eyed her with a blank expression, before stepping off the wall, and waiting for her to approach with his hands buried deeply in his pockets.

She approached him with quick steps, her smile still intact. How could she have ever doubted this? This was right.

"Nice to see you've decided to join me tonight," he muttered, his voice holding a hint of resentment. Her smile fell at his words and she paused mid-step.

What had she expected? Did she expect him to welcome her back with open arms, without even mentioning her absence last night?

"I'm sorry," She said quietly, he looked up at the sound of her voice, "I just...well...I can't really explain-,"

"You had a little run in with Nott," he interrupted, "I know that much. Why you were down there in the first place..." he shrugged. "Maybe it's not only me you're meeting. Maybe you and Nott have a little thing happening. Either way, he won't be going near you again."

His expression was bitter, and it reminded her a lot of the way he used to look at her, back before they were together. It sent a cold shiver through her body. He was being ridiculous, jealous and paranoid. He was being Draco.

"Stop this," She ordered, her voice much stronger than before, "You're being ridiculous, Draco. I don't like Nott, at all. Something just happened and I...I had to go downstairs where I ran into him-,"

"What an excuse," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"I don't have to make excuses," Hermione explained rather loudly, and strongly, "I can do what I like, when I like, and it's none of your business. Yes, I should've told you, but really, if this is how you react, then why would I?" She crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air.

Draco stepped forward a few steps, his brows furrowed in annoyance, his own arms crossed over his chest. "Don't turn this around onto me; I waited her for an hour! You never showed! Excuse me for being a little annoyed."

Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry, ok? I am."

Draco stood in front of her eyeing her out of the corner of his eye. He looked no more intimidating them a sulking child. "You still touched Nott."

She furrowed her brow, "What?"

"You touched Nott," he repeated, as though the act itself was an offence. Hermione eyed him with a bemused expression.

"I punched Nott," She corrected. Draco's hand shot up and he pointed at her accusingly.

"Exactly! You touched him!"

Hermione was officially speechless. He was annoyed because she had touched Nott to punch him? It was too much. So much, in fact, that she couldn't help but break out into a round of chiming laughter, much to Draco's annoyance.

"You...are...ab-absoultely...crazy," she gasped in between her mirth. Draco merely stood there eyeing her with narrowed eyes, looking thoroughly unimpressed. She held her right hand up to him and began waving it in his face.

"Oooh, be careful you don't touch it, it's got Theodore Nott coodies on it!"She teased, while chuckling. Draco batted away the offending limb in disgust, which only caused her to break down into another round of uncontrollable laughter.

"You're so ridiculous," she chuckled, "I really do love you." Her smile almost faltered as she realised what had slipped out. One glance at Draco showed that he too had heard her words. In an effort to hopeful by-pass the awkwardness, she let out a rather forced cheerful sigh and turned to look at the wall in front of the troll portrait.

"Shall we just stand here all day or should we go in?"

"Hermione-,"

"I vote for going in," she smiled, despite the fact that her heart was racing a million miles an hour.

"Hermione-," She continued moving toward the door, thinking of their special room, until she felt a strong hand grab her arm.

"Bloody hell, Granger," Draco berated, spinning her to face him, "would you stop with all that? Do you really mean that?"

"Mean what?" She asked in an attempt to play dumb. He gave her a pointed look, which told her that he would not hesitate to hex her if she didn't stop trying to avoid the topic.

She sighed. This was not what she had planned for her night. "Yes...I do." She admitted, finding herself too nervous to meet his eye.

She missed the smile on his face, and the way his eyes softened at her words, what she didn't miss, however, was the small husky whisper in her ear, "I...love you, too."

Those simple words were enough for her.

So caught up in their bubble of happiness, Hermione forgot to even mention the events of that day to Draco. That could all come later; right then and there they were happy.

As they stepped into their room, Hermione could tell there was something different about tonight. Draco was oddly silent as made his way over the bed, and sat of the end, watching her as she stood in front of the fire, basking in the warmth.

She swallowed thickly as she made her way over to her side of the bed. Normally, they would undress on their separate side and slip under the cover, meeting in the middle. Tonight however, she could feel Draco behind her.

As she raised her hand to begin working on her buttons, she felt his much larger and warmer hands covering hers, taking over the task. Once all the buttons were loose, he slipped the light sheet of fabric over her shoulders, and let it fall to the ground by her feet.

Hermione's head spun as she felt Draco warm, soft lips placing kisses at the top of her spine, and her collarbone. The kisses got more passionate and strong as he went on, and she could hear his loud breathing and feel his heart beat against her back.

She needed to touch him.

She turned in his arms until she was facing his chest. Not quite as smooth as him, and far too overwhelmed by the sensations running through her body, she began fumbling at his shirt buttons with shaky hands.

It was only when she heard a throaty chuckle from above her that she looked up and found Draco smiling down at her. "Let me," he offered, his own hands making quick work of his buttons, and letting his shirt fall to the floor in a pile beside Hermione's.

Immediately, their lips joined in a passionate and fiery kiss. The only sound was their ragged breathing, and the sound of the fire crackling behind them. Hermione's stomach flipped as Draco's tongue invaded her mouth, massaging her own, and sending warm sensations throughout her body.

His hand moved down her back and cupped her bottom, pulling her closer against him. It was then that Hermione felt the hardness in his trousers, and unlike all the other times when she'd pulled away, she only wanted to continue. She wanted to feel him.

She moved her hands away from where they cupped his broad shoulders, and began sliding down his chest, taking pleasure in how fast his heart seemed to be beating through his whole body just at her touch. When she reached the waistband of his trousers, she moved to unbuckle his belt, happy that her hands were no longer shaking from nerves, but that they were now steady with determination.

The belt dropped to the floor with a small rattle, and Draco broke away from her at the sound. Breathless gasps escaping his mouth, his eyes glazed over with lust.

"Hermione," he breathed, "if you keep going, I don't think I can control myself."

Hermione didn't answer, but merely summed up every ounce of courage she had and continued on her previous quest. One quick pop of a button and his pants were open. She undid the zipper, and let his pants fall to the floor. He was now in front of her, bare-chested, with only his cotton boxer briefs covering the long, hard bulge of his erection.

Her heart nearly raced double speed at the sight, and she hesitantly moved her hand to touch him. It surprised her how hard he was.

He let out a sharp gasp as she let her hand roam over it; immediately she pulled away, her face flushing red. Despite her determination to take things further, she was still as awkward as ever about the whole thing.

Sensing her nerve, Draco moved his hands from her hips to the back of her waist, and slowly unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. He moved back to look at her and let a rush of breath escape his lips.

"Every time I look at you, I swear you just get more beautiful."

He moved forward and captured her lips in another breathtaking kiss, his hands wandering all over her back, until they eventually stopped to cup her bum. Hermione let out a muffled squeak as he lifted her off her feet in one swift movement.

She let her legs wrap around his waist and they both let out moans of pleasure at his hardness rubbed against her most sensitive spot. Hermione never been so turned on, at least she was certain that was what the warm feeling in her stomach indicated.

All she knew was that she wanted more. She needed more.

She began grinding herself against his erection, letting out ragged breaths each time is hit her clitoris. Draco seemed to be struggling with his control, and his kisses were becoming wild and wet as he bucked against her.

He pulled away after a moment, still holding her up and against him, and took in her expression.

"Hermione, if you want to stop, we should stop now." He gasped breathlessly, "You're killing me."

Hermione swallowed thickly, feeling nervous about how he would react to her next words. "I...I don't want to stop."

Draco stared at her, his mouth open slightly with shock. After a moment, he all but ravaged her mouth with his own as he lowered her onto the bed and climbed on top of her. Hermione had never felt better than this.

Draco's body cocooning her own was like a protective barrier against the world. His hardness rubbing against her was sending waves of pleasure through her body, and his tongue against her own was dampening her knickers to a point they had never been before.

She hadn't come here tonight, expecting that they would take their relationship to the next level, but she knew that it was coming. She was ready, and she wanted to be with him in more ways than they'd already been.

He lowered her knickers down her waist and legs and let them fall into a pile beside the bed. He moved higher to unclip her bra, chuckling slightly as the clip tangled in Hermione's curls, much to her embarrassment.

He leant back staring at her in awe, as she lay in front of him, completely naked. She wasn't sure, but his erection from that angle looked slightly bigger; that worried her.

Her worries were quickly forgotten as the sensation of Draco's lips kissing her stomach, and inner thighs, which she suddenly realised were spread, leaving Draco to get an extremely close view of her. Her body's first reaction was to close her legs, and cover herself, but Draco's hand held her knee, effectively stopping her.

"You'll love this, Hermione, trust me." He met her eyes for a long moment, and Hermione eventually let herself relax and her leg fall back open. Draco kissed her inner thigh for a few more moments, before going straight for the target.

Hermione gasped out loud as his tongue found her clit and he began massaging it in circles. He moved down lower and began running his tongue along her slit in quick movements. Hermione was far too in the moment to realise she was bucking against his face, moaning rather wantonly.

He sped up his movements on her clit and Hermione could feel a pressure building up in her stomach, with one last flick of the tongue she was sent over the edge. Grabbing at the sheets, his hair, and her own breast, as she came in waves of pleasure, her moans sounding foreign to her own ears.

As the last waves of pleasure ebbed away, she looked at Draco with half lidded eyes, and found him smirking at her.

"Told you you'd like that," he chuckled, "and, boy, did you like it."

He chuckled as Hermione covered her face with her hands, despite the fact that she was smiling. She was far too happy to be embarrassed right now.

She felt Draco's weight on her body again, and moved her hands from her face to his back in an attempt to pull his closer. He kissed her lips more gently this time, his hands tangling in her curls.

After a moment, he pulled away to look at her.

"Are you sure you're ready for this Hermione?" He asked softly, "There's always time to wait until you're ready."

She shook her head determinedly. "I'm ready now."

She didn't want to mention her fears, and that she thought they might not have much time.

He stared at her for a moment, as if to gauge if she were lying. Clearly satisfied that she wasn't, he began to kiss her again, a little more passionately, his hardness rubbing against her soaked and bare womanhood.

She felt him move his hands down to his briefs and begin pulling them down over his hips. After a moment, he kicked them off his feet, and let his weight rest back on her slightly. Hermione gasped at the feeling of his bare erection against her, and she felt him groan.

"You're so wet," he whispered huskily in her ear, causing her to shiver.

He lifted his hips, positioning himself at her entrance. With one last look at her for confirmation, he pushed his length inside her. Draco groaned and Hermione hissed in pain as he first entered. She was a virgin, and she could feel his erection stretching her to her full capacity. After a moment, the pain ceased slightly, she assumed the fact that she was incredibly wet and turned on helped a lot.

It was only when she felt him hit a barrier, that she began to panic, knowing the real pain was about to come. He met her eyes, and leant down to capture her mouth in a deep kiss, obviously trying to distract her. He thrust into her, hard, breaking through the barrier and causing Hermione give a muffled cry into his mouth.

He stilled inside her, waiting for the pain to subside, while still kissing her. After a moment, the stinging sensation ebbed away, leaving only a dull ache. Now all she wanted was to feel him inside her, moving, thrusting, and groaning in pleasure.

She wiggled her hips, letting him know she wanted to continue. He began to move his hips, thrusting in and out, first slowly, then speeding up his movements as her moans increased. Hermione had never felt so filled. Every thrust hit a spot deep inside, that caused her to let out a wanton moan that she was sure she would be embarrassed about later. Right at this moment, however, all she cared about was the feelings she was experiencing and the sound of Draco's groans as he thrust into her like his life depended on it.

His thrusts grew deeper, hitting that same spot over and over, each time adding to the build up in her stomach. She gasped in pleasure as his mouth captured her left nipple in his mouth, his hand massaging her breast, all the while continuing on with his rhythm.

His thrusts became sharp and erratic and Hermione knew he was only moments away from coming. He seemed to realise it too, because his hand moved away from her breast, to her stomach and he muttered a spell under his breath which left her stomach tingling.

The feeling of the spell and his movements against her sent Hermione convulsing towards another orgasm, just as Draco bucked into her one last time, letting out a guttural groan as he spilled his seed inside her.

They lay there for a few minutes, breathless and sweaty, as they each recovered from their exhaustion. After a moment, Draco moved off her, pulling her against him as he lay staring at the roof.

"No regrets?" he asked after a moment.

Hermione shook her head, feeling more content than she ever had before, "No regrets."

* * *

><p>Blaise was awake when Draco entered the dorm later that night, his hair was messy and he smelt of sex.<p>

"Fun night?" he teased the blond, with a smirk.

Draco chuckled as he fell lazily onto his bed, "Mind your own business, Zabini."

Potter and Weasley, who were seated on the floor playing a game of wizard's chess, chuckled. Goyle let out a loud snore from his bed across the room.

Blaise eyed his friend for a moment, taking in his content expression.

"So you and Granger are getting pretty serious, I guess," he commented, as casually as possible. Draco looked over at him.

"I guess," he said with a shrug.

"Guess you'll be telling people soon, right?" Blaise continued. He picked up a Quidditch magazine and began to flick through it, ignoring the odd look Draco was giving him.

Weasley and Potter were looking between them both with hesitant expressions.

"You know we can't tell people yet, mate, it'd cause too much shit." Draco reminded him.

Blaise resisted the urge to sigh. "So when are you gonna tell people? I mean, it'll be the same in four months, and four months after that. Your relationship with Hermione is always going to cause shit."

He looked over at Draco to find his friend eyeing him with a confused and hounded expression. "Yeah, so Hermione and I will decide when it's time to tell people."

Blaise knew Draco was becoming agitated at his questions, but if no one was going to address the issue, he would. "When will that be though? Are you even serious enough about her that you'll stick by her even when your father threatens to cut off your inheritance?"

Draco shot to his feet, his face contorted into one of anger, as he rounded on Blaise. "What are you saying?"

Blaise stood, placing a hand on his friends shoulder. "Just relax, mate, I'm not having a go, I'm just trying to help you figure out what you're doing."

Potter and Weasley looked prepared to jump up and break the pair apart, but Draco's face relaxed and he shrugged Blaise's hand roughly off his shoulder.

"I don't even know what I'm doing," the blonde admitted, moving back to his place on his bed. Blaise sat back down, listening to his friend as he explained. Potter and Weasley were also focused on the conversation, their game of chess completely forgotten.

"We haven't discussed what we're going to do," Draco continued, resting his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling, "I know she's waiting for me to makes some sort of plan, but...I just don't know what to do."

Blaise nodded in understanding; he'd suspected as much. "There are not really many plans you can make, mate, not while no one knows about you. And when they do know, well, that'll be the real test, wont it?"

Draco nodded. "I know that. I keep telling her-," he cut off half way and rubbed his hands across his face; whatever he wanted to say was obviously hard. "I keep telling her that her blood doesn't matter, but it does." He grimaced, "It's what's stopping me from telling people."

Blaise stared at the blonde for a moment, resisting the urge to lecture him, and also trying to control his anger. He and Draco had discussed this topic many times, and each time Draco had insisted that the only thing stopping him was Lucius Malfoy's wrath, and not the fact that he was worried how people would react.

Lucius Malfoy could be dealt with; Blaise had already made some plans of his own. When the truth came out, Draco would be safe at school, and in the holidays, he would stay at Blaise's' mansion. Lucky for Blaise, his mother had cut off the floo network, and the only way into the house was with one of the house elves, or Blaise. Lucius Malfoy would be unable to get in, let alone find the house that was under a number of protective charms while his mother was away.

Unfortunately, Blaise had guessed that it was a little more than just Lucius Malfoy stopping Draco from telling people. Draco had been taught his whole life that he was better than those who weren't of pure blood. While he could now accept Hermione, despite her blood, Blaise knew he still had trouble dealing with the issue.

Being a Slytherin, most people in their houses believed in blood purity. Draco had the purest bloodline of them all, therefore he commanded respect amongst the other students of Slytherin house. If it came out that he was dating a 'mudblood' his whole reputation and standing would fall.

Blaise could understand that it would be hard for something like that to happen to someone as prideful as Draco; it had been hard enough for him to forget his prejudices and forgive her in the first place. But this was just ridiculous. Blaise had almost had enough of his friends' indecisiveness. Hermione was a nice girl; she didn't deserve to be toyed with.

"So you're ashamed of her?" Potter asked, looking as though the mere thought was ridiculous.

"I'm not ashamed of her." Draco snapped at the bespectacled boy, before sighing, "I guess I'm just waiting for an answer to come along. Some sort of help. I want her, but I'll lose so much if people know about us."

Blaise eyed his friend for a moment. He wanted to sympathise with his friend, but all he felt was frustration. It felt like they had come round in a full circle. "Well, I think you should just tell people. You know what they say, jump into the deep end."

Draco stared at Blaise for a moment, as though he were considering that idea. After a moment, he shook his head. "No. Hermione doesn't deserve to be pushed into all that bullshit. She deserves some time to be happy with me."

Blaise resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They were both using the other as an excuse. Hermione didn't want them exposed because she didn't want Draco to go through all the problems that came with dating her; Draco didn't want them exposed because he knew there were repercussions for Hermione. It was all very selfless, but also extremely pointless.

"I think Hermione already suspects the real reason you're putting it off," Blaise informed Draco as gently as possible. He did not want his friend to snap at him and become irrational.

Draco stared at Blaise for a long moment, before turning to the wall. It looked as though he were remembering something. "I know."

He stood abruptly and headed into the bathroom before closing the door. Blaise stared at the locked door for a long moment, wondering what had affected Draco so much. After a moment, Weasley spoke, pulling his attention from Draco's plight.

"And here we were thinking things were going smoothly," he commented wryly.

Blaise suddenly remembered the difficulties Hermione was having today. "That reminds me. I hope you guys are still up to par on your Quidditch skills, because we're playing in the game next week."

Both Potter and Weasley stared at him like he'd lost it.

"There's no bloody way I'm playing for that git," Weasley stated.

"Once I tell you what's going on, I think you'll be convinced." The Italian moved to sit by Potter and Weasley, ensuring Draco couldn't hear their conversation from within the bathroom.

* * *

><p>The day of the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match came around quickly, and Blaise found himself in the boys' dorm slipping on his boots, the final touch on his Quidditch gear. Across the room, Potter and Weasley were doing the same; though they looked much less stressed than Blaise.<p>

"You'll be right, mate," Draco encouraged from the bed next to him, clearly seeing his worried expression. The weather's great today and Nott isn't going to be targeting you."

Blaise nodded. That wasn't the cause of his mood.

Draco stood, slipping on his coat. "I really do appreciate this," he said, addressing his three friends.

Hermione had informed Draco of what was going on sometime over the week. The boy had been reluctant about the whole thing at first, but when Hermione had explained that it was the only way to ensure their secret, he had agreed.

"Don't mention it, mate," Potter said, waving off his friend's gratitude, "I'm pretty excited to get back on a broom."

Draco chuckled. "Typical. Guess I'll see you boys down there." The blonde left the dorm, heading down to the Quidditch pitch, leaving his three friends to finish getting ready.

When the clock struck nine, the three Slytherins began making their way to the Quidditch pitch. Neither wore smiles, but merely nervous expression.

As they retrieved their brooms from the broom shed, Potter turned to Blaise with a grimace. "Do we really have to do this?"

Blaise nodded. "They need it."

He sighed with a nod, before the headed into the change rooms. Nott was pacing back and forth in the room, while the other sat around chatting idly. At the entrance of the three boys, he paused and looked over at them his expression on of confusion and suspicion.

"What are you gits doing here?" he asked, before taking in their uniforms, "And why are you dressed like that? You're not on the team." He crossed his arms across his chest.

"We're here to help you win," Weasley said, stepping forward and sitting on one of the benches, "we all have something to lose if Slytherin doesn't win this game." He gave Nott a pointed look.

The other boy scowled. "Why should I let you on the team at this short notice? I've already got replacements."

The two replacements were a chubby boy, who looked as though he were half asleep, and another boy who looked as though he were going to throw up from nerves. Blaise grimaced. These were the best replacements Nott could find?

Potter eyed the replacements with a queer expression, before turning to Nott. "Because they look as though they'll either fall asleep or vomit everywhere, that's why."

Nott scowled at Potter before turning to his replacements; judging by his expression, he knew there was a good chance of either of those scenarios happening. After what looked like an internal struggle with his ego, Nott finally sighed loudly.

"Fine, you bloody idiots." He turned to the replacement, "Oi, you two, your off the team, and you're not playing in this game. Piss off."

The tired boy stood, obviously not willing to incur the older boys' wrath, and left the change room. The other boy opened his mouth, as though he were going to object, but instead threw up all over his own shoes.

"Merlin, that's bloody disgusting," Weasley murmured in disgust, backing away from the pile of vomit. Blaise and Potter did the same, identical looks of disgust on their face. Nott's face grew red with fury.

"Get. Out." He ordered the boy, whose face had grown a little less green. The boy stood and wandered out of the room, his shoes still covered in his own throw up. Nott pointed his wand at the puddle on the floor and cast a quick Scourgify on it, causing it to disappear into thin air.

He then turned to Blaise, his expression still untrusting. "What about you Zabini? I'm guessing you want a position too? Chaser?"

Blaise nodded. Nott rolled his eyes, before turning to his team. The only two chaser positions, other than Nott's, was taken by a member of the original team, the other by Culver. Nott's eyes stopped on his best mate, before he sighed.

"Sorry, mate," he said to Culver, who was staring blankly at him, "I know you're good player, but you've got the enthusiasm of a drugged-up Hippogriff."

Culver stood and shrugged, before heading toward the door. Blaise eyed the teen with an odd expression because he was sure he heard the boy mutter, "Thank fuck for that," as he exited the room. Apparently Culver really did hate Quidditch.

"Alright," Nott said, looking much more confident in his team then he had before, "now let's discuss strategy."

Potter, Weasley and Blaise shared a look between them. They would not be following Nott's strategy.

* * *

><p>Hermione checked her watch for the fourth time that morning as she sat in the Great hall. The game was still a while away, and she had no appetite for eating. Next to her, Neville was chewing on a piece of toast.<p>

"Are you really going to watch the Quidditch game?" he asked for what seemed like the millionth time that morning. It was unusual for her to watch the game, and she hadn't informed Neville of the reason she was so interested in it. She feared he would tell her the same thing that Blaise had.

"Yea, Blaise is playing. It's his first game," She said, trying out the first excuse that came to his head, "You have fun studying with Hannah, I'd only get in the way anyway."

Neville eyed her for a moment before nodding. She appreciated that he didn't nag her about it.

Across the room, she saw Draco get up from his seat and make his way toward the door. Pansy Parkinson galloped behind him but he paid her no mind. Her view was obstructed by a large lion head in her way.

Luna was wearing her Gryffindor head dress, which surprised Hermione, though she noticed shortly after that the girl was wearing a green scarf around her neck. She was showing her support for both teams.

"Nice team support, Luna," Hermione said with a smile. Students around them were chuckling at the girls head, but Hermione tried to ignore them.

"Thanks," the girl said happily, "I was thinking you might like to walk out together?"

Hermione nodded. She said a quick goodbye to Neville, before standing and exiting the hall with Luna.

They walked along in silence for a moment, before Hermione felt like she couldn't hold in her nerves anymore.

"I really hope Slytherin win," She said as quietly as possible. She didn't want anyone else to hear her say something that suspicious.

Luna, whom Hermione assumed had been informed of everything, smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure they'll try their best."

Hermione smiled back, though Luna's words had not helped in easing her panic.

They found a seat on the highest bandstand, amongst the excited chatter of the students. They were all just here to enjoy a Quidditch game; Hermione had a lot more riding on it then that. The students began cheering as the announcer introduced both teams.

The crowd chattered a lot when Potter, Weasley and Blaise's names were announced on the Slytherin team. The Gryffindors looked especially displeased at this last minute change.

The teams flew around for a minute, waiting for the start of the game. Hermione could see Blaise as the left Chaser, hovering on his broom across the field. Ginny was playing right Chaser, and Hermione could see her eyeing Blaise with a competitive stare. Despite her feelings for the boy, Ginny was obviously not going to go easy on them.

The two teams got in their positions, while Madam Hooch blew the whistle and released the Snitch. Hermione saw Potter follow its path, along with the Gryffindor seeker. A moment later, she released the two Bludgers which began speeding around the field in search of a target. After a moment, she blew the whistle again, and threw the Quaffle in the air.

* * *

><p>Blaise watched as Nott sped forward and took possession of the Quaffle, just as the Gryffindor lead Chaser sped forward. He flew forward, flanking Nott as the teen sped to a few yards from the goal, it was only then that Ginny sped past as he threw the Quaffle toward the goals and captured it in her own arms, speeding toward the opposite goal. The crowd cheered at this manoeuvre, and Blaise saw Nott cursing.<p>

Blaise sped after Ginny, adjusting his speed to dodge the other Gryffindor chasers that were getting in his way and also the occasional well-aimed Bludger as it flew past his head. Weasley at the other end was preparing to protect the goals, but as Ginny flew forward she feinted to the left, but threw the Quaffle right. It sped through the goal with a roaring cheer from the crowd.

Weasley shot Blaise a miserable look, before throwing the Quaffle back into play. Blaise sighed before racing forward and grabbing the Quaffle. He raced forward dodging a number of Chasers and Beaters bats, before pelting the Quaffle to Nott who was waiting for a few metres away from the Gryffindor-defended goal.

Nott caught the Quaffle in one hand and shot it in the goal quite easily, despite Ginny and another Chasers attempts to steal it mid-air. A small percentage of the crowd cheered, most booed.

* * *

><p>Hermione had to control the grin on her face as Slytherin scored their first goal. She shot a glance to the stands on the other side of the pitch where she could see Draco cheering his friends on. She smiled at the sight. If things kept going like this it would all be alright.<p>

Half an hour later, Hermione's good feeling had disappeared. Slytherin were behind by thirty points, and despite this small margin, the fact that Weasley seemed to be off his game today, and Potter hadn't even managed to spot the Snitch yet, was only making her anxious.

* * *

><p>Blaise hovered by the Slytherin goals, as Nott flew past him toward Weasley, a look of fury on his face.<p>

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Weasley?" he heard Nott growl at his friend, "I expect you to play better than this! Get on your game!"

Nott flew past again, as the Quaffle was taken by Ginny, who began flying toward Blaise. He shot forward, attempting to steal the Quaffle from Ginny, only to have her speed past him, and throw towards the goal. It shot through the left goal, just as Weasley was speeding to defend it.

Ginny shot her brother an odd look, "Bit off your game today, Ron," She said, before flying away, just as Ron threw the Quaffle back in. It was caught by Slytherin, who began racing towards the other goal.

It was then that the crowd erupted into cries and excited calls and the announcer let it be known that the Snitch had been spotted. Immediately the game down below halted, and the crowd held its breath as they all looked towards the sky to see Potter and the Gryffindor Seeker racing against each other after the golden sphere.

* * *

><p>Hermione stood with the rest of the cheering crowd, her heart pounding out of her chest, her mouth dry. This was it. Potter had to catch the Snitch or Slytherin would lose.<p>

The two Seekers flew side by side, barging the other out of the way as they chased the Snitch through the air. The cheers of the crowd got louder and louder and finally erupted into a monstrous roar as a hand closed around the golden sphere.

The hand of the Gryffindor Seeker.

The whole crowd around Hermione jumped up and down, ecstatic at Gryffindors win. Hermione, however, dropped numbly onto the seat beneath her, barely conscious of Luna's hand as it grabbed her own.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," the girl said, her voice full of sincerity. Hermione shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat as she attempted to speak.

"It not your fault. It's no one's fault," she said, though it was hard not to feel some resentment for Nott. Luna merely stared at her for a moment, before turning back to the pitch, where the Gryffindor team was doing victory laps, showing off for the crowd.

* * *

><p>Blaise landed his broom on the soft grass of the pitch, his heart racing a million miles an hour. A moment later a miserable Weasley and Potter landed beside him.<p>

"That was the hardest game of my life," Weasley muttered, his eyes above them on the Gryffindor team still flying around.

Potter nodded in agreement, "It was hard not to race forward and catch the Snitch like I really wanted to. I've never purposely thrown a game before." He kicked his foot on the grass, causing a tuft to come loose.

Blaise rubbed a hand across his forehead. "I know it was hard, given how seriously you take the game, but it needed to happen. Draco and Hermione need the push. It was for the best."

Weasley eyed his friend for a moment, before turning his gaze to the side, "I hope you're right, mate."

Blaise turned, following Weasley's gaze to where Draco was heading toward them on the pitch. His expression was blank.

He stopped when he reached the group, glancing between the three friends. After a moment, he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Guess it wasn't really your day," he chuckled, though it sounded forced.

He walked away a moment later, leaving his three friends to follow behind him, each wearing similarly guilty looks. They had purposely thrown the game so Draco and Hermione would be exposed. How could they ever look Draco in the eye again?

* * *

><p>"Come on, Hermione," Luna urged, grabbing the girls hand and pulling her along in the direction the rest of the crowd was headed. Hermione stood numbly, her movements sluggish. She was about to lose something important to her, she could feel it.<p>

"It'll be ok, Hermione," the blonde continued in an attempt to calm her down, "perhaps Theodore won't tell anyone."

Hermione at least had the energy to scoff. It was unlikely that would happen.

* * *

><p>Monday morning came far too quickly for Hermione. She had no urge to get out of bed, to go to classes, or to see anyone. She knew the vow against Nott would only be in place for as long as he was Captain, and at any moment, whenever Snape decided to take away his Captaincy, he was free to tell whoever he wanted about Draco and Hermione's relationship.<p>

She rolled over in bed, and spotted the empty bed beside her where Lavender would normally be sleeping. Hermione sighed miserably. She'd slept in. She went through her morning routine quicker than usual, barely bothering to tame her hair.

Her concentration was elsewhere; all of this seemed unimportant in comparison to the bigger things that were coming. By the time she was dressed and her schoolbag was slung over her shoulder, she only had ten minutes left to get to the Great hall for breakfast.

She raced down the stairs to the girls' dorm, and sped through the common room toward the portrait hole. She'd nearly exited when she'd heard someone calling from behind her.

"Hermione! There you are. I've been waiting for ages."

Hermione turned to find Ginny standing from one of the comfy couches in front of the fire, and slinging her bag over her shoulder. Hermione gave the girl a confused look, as she came to stand beside her.

"You were waiting for me?" She asked the red head, "Why?"

The other girl shrugged. "We haven't chatted in a while; I figured I'd see how you were."

Hermione continued giving the girl odd looks as she stepped out of the portrait hole, grabbing Hermione by the arm and pulling her along behind.

"I noticed you at the game yesterday. I thought you hated Quidditch? I assume it wasn't me you were there to see?" the girl said with a lopsided smile.

Hermione let out a breathy laugh. "I was there to watch Blaise. You know, being his first official game and all."

Ginny nodded, "Yes. Blaise is an amazing Quidditch player, or at least my brother's told me so. My brother's a good player too, so is Potter. I'm surprised they played so poorly yesterday."

Hermione stared ahead in thought for a moment. There had been more pressure on the shoulders of those three boys than merely winning the game, not to mention they hadn't practised for days. She wasn't upset at them for losing, but merely grateful they had tried to help in the first place.

"I guess it just wasn't there day," Hermione suggested with a shrug. Ginny nodded.

"I suppose," the younger girl agreed, before her expression turned serious, "can I ask you a question?"

Hermione eyed her hesitantly for a moment. Was she going to talk about Blaise or Draco? If so, Hermione was not in the mood.

"Sure," she agreed hesitantly.

"I was just wondering what that little altercation with Nott was about the other week?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was a question she had not been expecting. She couldn't exactly answer honestly, but she supposed she could tell the half truth.

"He called me a mudblood...I guess I just snapped," She explained. Ginny's eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head tiredly.

"Slytherins and their stupid blood obsessions." She glanced at Hermione, "That's why I was quite surprised about you and Draco. I mean it's well known that he, well, you know...likes pure blood."

Hermione bit her lip. She knew that when her and Draco were exposed this question would seem very tame compared to the way others would react. Ginny had at least left Blaise alone lately, Hermione could at least offer her an answer for that.

"I know it's surprising, but I don't think Draco really cares about all that. He has a mind of his own."

She at least hoped.

Ginny stared at her for a moment, before nodding. "Right."

Hermione didn't like the scepticism in her voice, but let it go as they fell into silence.

They walked into the Entrance hall, where only a few students were gathered, whispering in small groups. Hermione tried to focus on whether the whispering was about her, but Ginny initiated conversation once more.

"I know you're angry at me," she began, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, "I would be too. But I just want you to know, I'm not some bitter person. I understand why Draco chose you. You're smart, pretty, you, well, you worry about important things. All I'm good at is Quidditch and Charms. I know Draco and I never would've lasted, and I mean, us much as I hate to admit it, I know Blaise and I wouldn't work out either."

She sighed, her gaze turning to her shoes.

"That kiss; in the hospital wing." She explained, "It was sort of just me saying good bye. It didn't mean anything. Blaise would never hurt Luna."

Hermione eyed the girl for a moment, gauging the sincerity in her speech. It seemed that she meant every word of it. It was only then that she saw the flash of blonde behind Ginny. Luna.

"Luna!" Hermione called, as the girl began walking toward the Great hall, her steps determined and quick. Ginny spun around on the spot, her eyes wide, as she saw the girl head into the Great hall.

"Luna! Please let me explain," Ginny called desperately, racing after her. Hermione followed suit and they found themselves bursting into the Great hall, hoping to explain to Luna before things got out of hand.

* * *

><p>Blaise was feeling lethargic as he sat in the Slytherin common room that Monday morning. Weasley and Potter shared the couch across from him, each of them wearing similar expressions of guilt and sickness on their faces.<p>

Draco was pacing up and down in between the two seats, fidgeting with his tie, his collar, anything to keep from sitting still.

"Are you sure Nott hasn't left yet?" Potter asked the blonde after a moment.

Draco shook his head. "I asked one of the guys from his dorm when he left, he said Nott slept in today. Guess he's depressed or some bullshit." Draco scoffed at the thought.

"No doubt Professor Snape will offer you back the position of Captain; maybe you could just insist he give it to Nott?" Weasley suggested.

Draco shook his head, continuing his pacing. "Do you think Snape could be convinced of anything?"

Blaise shared a look with Weasley. Despite their efforts to act as though they were trying to assist Draco, they felt a great amount of guilt from the incident yesterday. Even if it would get things rolling.

Another ten minutes passed before a tired looking Theodore Nott emerged from the stairs towards the boys' dormitory. His clothing looked as though it had been lazily thrown on, and he had dark rings under his eyes. Blaise almost felt sorry for him, until he remembered that he was the reason for this whole situation in the first place.

When Nott spotted the four boys seated on the couch watching him, he rolled his eyes, grabbed his bag and headed for the door, showing no interest in speaking to them. It wasn't until Draco strode forward and grabbed the boys shoulder did her turn abruptly and shrug the offending limb away.

"Piss off, Malfoy," Nott spat, "What's the matter? Come to beg for mercy?" he scoffed, before turning and attempting to walk away again.

Draco grabbed him more forcefully this time, grabbing him by the collar and pushing his against the wall beside the portrait hole.

"You've gotten everything you wanted, Nott." Draco all but growled at the teen, "I kept my part of the bargain. Just because you can't keep you're spot on the team, doesn't mean you should go back on the deal."

Nott pushed Draco away forcefully, attempting to fix his shirt. He didn't look particularly bothered by Draco's words. "You should have gotten Granger to be a little more specific in her vow then."

Blaise could see the desperation in Draco's expression and another rush of guilt hit him.

"I'll get Snape to keep you on the team. I'll play for you," he motioned to his friends, "we all will."

Nott shook his head, his expression holding bitterness. "I don't need you to get me a spot on the team. If it wasn't for your propaganda, everything would be fine. And besides, I'm not Captain anymore." His eyes flashed angrily, "I suspect Snape will be organising you're reinstatement today."

He pushed past Draco, who stood staring with an almost horrified expression his face.

"When did this happen?" Draco asked, as though he didn't want to hear the answer.

Nott paused in his steps, turning to look over his shoulder. "Last night. Just before I had an interesting chat to Pansy Parkinson."

He continued walking out of the portrait hole, not pausing to look back.

Draco stood staring at the portrait hole, his expression on of defeat. Blaise stood, moving to his friends' side.

"Look, mate, we should probably get to breakfast. If he did say anything, Hermione's going to need some support."

Draco merely stared at Blaise, as though seeing through him. The Italian urged his friend through the portrait hole, with Weasley and Potter following behind.

* * *

><p>Hermione and Ginny pushed open the doors to the Great hall, calling out to Luna. The blonde did not halt in her footsteps. However, when the hall fell silent and all eyes turned to the group that had just entered; she turned to Hermione, as though she already knew what was happening.<p>

Hermione knew as well.

Ginny looked between the two with confusion, her eyes dancing around to the multiple ones that were now focused on them, whispering unintelligible things.

"Is there something going on?" Ginny asked, her brows furrowed, "Why's everyone staring?"

Luna, in a selfless act, came to stand beside Hermione, her cool hand finding the latter's in an attempt to comfort her. Hermione, however, could not be comforted. The world seemed to be spinning at the whispers became more audible.

"Can you believe she would make up such an unbelievable thing?"

"That filthy mudblood will get what's coming to her..."

"Draco would never touch her; look at her..."

As the whispers went on and on, Hermione's eyes filled with unshed tears.

Ginny turned to her, eyes wide. "How do they know...?"

Hermione couldn't answer the simple question. Her throat was dry and there was a lump the size of an apple obstructing her ability to talk.

The whispers fell silent again, as the doors to the Great hall opened with a creaking sound. Hermione felt the weight of an arm on her shoulder and turned to find Potter giving her a lopsided smile. On her other side, Weasley was berating people who were whispering.

"Shut up, you idiots, or your wand will end up somewhere rather unpleasant." The two boys he'd directed that at immediately stopped their whispers.

The only thing Hermione could focus on, however, was Draco. She turned behind her and found herself face to face with a well-built chest. Her heart sank though when she looked up and instead of seeing the cool pale features of Draco, she was met with the dark eyes and olive skin of Blaise.

"Is he-,"

"He's right behind me," Blaise assured her, "he's about as shocked as you are."

However, when Blaise looked over his shoulder, all that he found was an empty space where his friend should have been. His heart sank for the both of them. Reality had kicked in, and clearly reality was too much.

"He's not coming," Hermione muttered. There was no hint of surprise in her voice, and Blaise knew that she had suspected this would happen the whole time.

He had suspected it too, which was one of the reasons he had wanted them to be exposed. Hermione was giving more and more of herself to someone who was unsure of how much he could give back. She deserved this.

Of course, as Draco's closest friend, he should support him and help him, but Blaise had grown close to Hermione over the months. He didn't want to see her hurt, or at least hurting more than she was right now.

Now that things were out in the open, they would play out the way they always should have. No secrets, no promises, no lies. Draco would have to come around knowing that he would be hounded for his choices; Hermione would have to accept people's judgment. It would all be for the best, eventually.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as Hermione pushed past him and out the doors of the Great hall. He turned to Luna for help, but the girl merely looked away at his glance. With all that was going on, he missed the betrayal in the glance, and instead of staying to ease Luna, he raced out of the hall after Hermione.

* * *

><p>Hermione hated herself. She hated that she'd ever believed Draco Malfoy would accept her. Hated that she had let herself fall for him, knowing that he was notoriously cunning. And she hated herself for being so upset right now.<p>

She had known it was coming. It was one of the reasons she had hesitated to get out of bed this morning. If she didn't have to face the world, she wouldn't have to see it changing.

She could see it clearly in her mind. The image of Draco's back as he walked away from her in the library that day. She remembered feeling abandoned. She remembered the anger she had felt because he hadn't understood how much it had hurt her that he still felt shame. Shame because of _her_.

_This is what it'll be like when he leaves you._

And it was.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Holy crud-muffins. I know this is late. I have no excuses except for that life happened. To all those people who left me lovely reviews, thank you so much for being patient. To the people who were a little less patient, I am sorry, but I have other things going on as well. I hope you do understand. This chapter is about the size of two chapters anyway, so if you consider it's nearly been a month, I hope it does make up for the lack of updates. Please don't hate me for how this chapter ended it's all part of the plot. Draco's transformation can't be an overnight thing.**

**Cheers my lovelies,**

**Leni**


	21. Chapter 21

_**Chapter 21**_

_****...in which all hope is lost._

* * *

><p>The corridors of Hogwarts were usually silent and peaceful during breakfast time. The only sound that could ever be heard was the occasional low hum of the portraits conversing with each other, or perhaps an echo from within the walls.<p>

As Blaise raced along, his feet hitting the ground, the loud cracks of his hastened footsteps on the stone floor and the sound of his sharp breaths broke through the peace and tranquillity that could normally be found on this morning hour. All he knew was that he had to find Hermione.

He had been so certain that Draco would man up when the school found out. Almost positive of it. Or maybe, deep down, he had been positive it would never happen, and that's why it was better to get it over with now. It seemed that the latter was exactly what had happened.

Blaise wasn't sure what he had expected of his friend. But he at least thought he would show his face. He hadn't though. Somewhere on the way to the Great hall, while Blaise was distracted by the whispers of passing students, Draco had slipped off somewhere and left Hermione to face the judgement and hate-filled comments on her own.

He'd most likely gone back to the dorms, probably cursing Nott the whole way; perhaps cursing himself. Draco wasn't trying to lie to himself; he had never assured Blaise that he would be there for Hermione if things came to this. He had only said he cared enough to forget about her blood; not that he cared enough to forget that _others_ cared about her blood.

Sometimes Blaise was so angry at his friend for being like he was. Only Draco would deny for years the obvious attraction he had to Granger, and even when the truth came out, only then would he deny them both happiness by refusing to let go his prejudices.

But still, it was stupid to blame Draco for all of this. At the end of the day, it wasn't his fault he was born into a strict pure-blooded family who forbade him from seeing anyone whose blood was not as pure. Perhaps if Draco had been born into a family like Blaise's, where parental influence was scarce; maybe then he would be a better person.

Blaise shook those useless thoughts from his head and he raced along the empty corridors. There was no point in thinking about that now. The past couldn't be changed so easily. Draco was who he was. He had the strength to change his views, now he just had to have the strength to fight for them. Strength he clearly didn't have; not yet.

As Blaise's steps slowed to a quick walk, he peeked down adjacent corridors hoping to spot a head of curly hair. He couldn't see her. Where had she gone?

He found himself wandering toward the girl's bathroom, somewhere he had found Hermione hiding once before. It was somewhere she might've run to, especially if she were crying. No one ever went into Myrtles bathroom. The ghost had a tendency to become emotional at even the slightest comment.

As he neared the bathroom, he could hear a loud sobbing coming from it. It wasn't Myrtle, however. Hermione must have run to the first place she knew would give her some peace and isolation from the judgmental stares and glares.

As Blaise pushed open the door to the flooded bathroom, the sobbing stopped abruptly, and he heard one of the stall doors being pushed shut in a hastened attempt to hide from the world.

"You don't want to come in here," a high-pitched voice sang from above him, looking far too pleased about the situation, "she's crying louder than me!"

Blaise ignored Myrtle as he stepped forward, standing in front of the closed stall he knew Hermione was hiding in.

"Hermione," he called, his voice soft, "please come out."

He heard her sniffle. "No. I can't face them, Blaise. Did you hear what they were saying?"

Her voice was nasally from her sobbing, and shaky from holding back the flood of tears that were yet to be released. He sighed. It hurt him to think that either way, whether they were exposed or not, this was how things would've turned out eventually.

"You don't have to face them alone." He told her, in what he knew was a useless attempt at comfort, "You've got me, and Luna. Ginny will help you, too. Even Potter and Weasley will kick anyone's ass if they make a comment."

She was silent for a moment; the only sound was the occasional sniffle coming from behind the door. "_He's_ not here though. It shouldn't be up to you to help me, it should be him and I supporting each other. He's not _here_."

She broke down into another round of muffled sobs, hiccupping occasionally. Blaise's heart clenched once more with guilt. Should he have just let them have their secret relationship?

"Hermione," he began, his voice filled with determination, "please, you need to understand that this is the first time Draco has ever done something for himself. You make him _happy_. Happier than I've ever seen him. He's not used to having to fight for things he wants because his father usually just hands them to him." He sighed, "You're the one thing he wants more than anything, and he just has to get over the initial shock of it all. Then he will be here with you."

Blaise wasn't sure whether that was actually true. Sure, Hermione made Draco happy and he was used to getting everything he wanted with no hassles, but was he really willing to give up his reputation, his safety, and his money for her?

Blaise only hoped he would be willing to make such sacrifices; otherwise Hermione would never be his. That was if she ever forgave him for this.

"He's not here _now_, Blaise." She reiterated, ignoring his previous words. They were pointless to her. "I needed him now."

She did need him, and he wasn't there. That's what it came down to.

Blaise stayed in the bathroom with Hermione for the first two lessons of the day. Eventually, her tears dried up, her voice steadied out, and she opened the bathroom stall. Her face was red and blotchy from crying, but the fact that there were no fresh tears was a good sign to Blaise.

"Are you sure you want to go to class?" Blaise asked as she headed toward one of the sinks and began washing the dried tears from her face.

He wanted her to be strong, and fight for herself. The students, especially the Slytherins, would attempt to rip her apart over the recent news, but Hermione had to stand strong. She had no other choice.

She nodded, as she dried her face with a paper towel. "I can't just skip all my classes. That would draw more attention to it. At least Draco will be getting hell too, for associating with filth."

The way she spat those words took Blaise by surprise. She was bitter and resentful. Draco would have a lot of explaining to do, if he ever cared to explain. Right now he was missing somewhere. Blaise doubted that he had even been to any of his classes that morning either, or if he would show up for any at all that day.

"You aren't filth, Hermione." Blaise said, catching her eye and forcing her to look at him, "You know the ridiculous views that Purebloods hold. You knew the consequences that came with dating one. It's not just Draco who has to accept a lot of things for you two to be together, you do too."

She stared at him for a moment, as though she weren't really seeing him. "I was willing to give up everything- in fact, I did give up everything. All for a few silly, empty promises."

"Just give him some time-,"

"If I don't get time, neither does he," She snapped, her eyebrows furrowed, "He should be here, facing this too."

She ran her hands through her curly hair. "I knew all along he would let me down. I did. I just didn't want to believe it."

Blaise didn't know what to say. Draco was his best friend; his brother. He would always be there for him. But in this situation, it was Draco who had let her down. Hermione had shown her face, knowing there was a good chance people would know about them; he hadn't.

In this situation, Blaise knew he had to give Hermione the support that his best friend should be. He knew Draco would want him to. Draco had accepted long ago, that when it came to serious situations, he was often gutless.

He was a Slytherin for a reason, and Hermione was a Gryffindor for the same. She had the courage that Draco sorely lacked. It was almost funny that a few months ago she had none, all because of the same boy who had brought her out of her shell.

Draco could make her happy and hurt her at the same time. Right now he was doing a very good job of the latter.

"It'll work out, Hermione," Blaise assured her, trying to sound confident in his own words, "It will."

She gave a small nod, her eyes on his. "I have no other choice but to make it work."

With courage Blaise knew he could never possess, Hermione left the bathroom that lunchtime with her chin up ready to face whatever the students of Hogwarts could throw at her.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately, that first thing was pudding and potato salad from the Slytherin table at lunch time.<p>

In their haste to punish the offenders, the teachers had taken their eyes off the Gryffindor table long enough for Ginny to send a bat-bogie hex at 3 of the culprits. It had managed to put a smile on Hermione's face for a small moment. However, when Luna caught her eye, the smile slipped and she realised that because of Ginny, Luna doubted her relationship with Blaise. Hermione wondered if the blonde had yet mentioned anything to the Italian, but assumed not, considering the smiles he was sending her as a few of his fellow housemates ran out the doors being chased by their own bogies.

He didn't even notice when she looked away without returning the smile.

In that small moment, Hermione felt guilt for being nice to Ginny, as though she were betraying Luna. But as Ginny turned and began helping Hermione clean off her food-stained robes, she let go of that guilt for the time being, and was just grateful that she had someone to stand by her.

With everything that was going on, she completely forgot about the problem between Blaise and Luna.

* * *

><p>The first lesson Hermione attended that day was Ancient Runes with the Hufflepuffs. Fortunately for her, the House didn't seem to care much for gossip, and she was left relatively alone. That is until she heard the familiar sound of a seat scraping beside her, something that she hadn't for a while.<p>

She glanced beside her to find the wary face of Wayne Hopkins, eyeing her as though she were some explosive device that may detonate at any second. Those looks were just as bad as the scowls.

"I'm not going to get beaten up if I sit near you, am I?" he asked, his tone playful, but still with a hint of wariness.

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked purposefully ahead at the professor writing the lesson on the board. "Since when are you afraid of Draco?" She asked the teen who was still staring at the side of her head.

Hopkins didn't answer, but merely sat there for a moment. "You know, I could tell that Malfoy always had a 'thing' for you, at least when you and I were dating," Hermione resisted the urge to correct him on that point, "But I really didn't think you were stupid enough to give him a chance, Hermione."

She glanced sideward at Hopkins, her temper flaring. However, when she saw only concern and worry in his features the feeling sank and left a heavy weight in her stomach. Even Hopkins knew Draco would hurt her, and Hopkins was definitely not the fastest broom in the shed.

"You know," the blond boy continued, "if I hadn't have seen it with my own eyes, that night at the Halloween ball, I would be thinking the same as the rest of the school."

Hermione turned abruptly to face the boy next to her, her concentration on writing her notes gone.

"What do you mean?" She asked, forcefully and a little too loudly. A few students around them turned at the sound. "What does the whole school think?" She said more quietly.

Hopkins looked a little hesitant to pass on the news; obviously he thought she'd already known what the whole school was saying.

"Uh, well, they don't actually think you and Draco are together, Hermione." He said, his voice quiet and wary.

Hermione furrowed her brow. What was he on about? "Yes they do. I heard them at breakfast this morning, Wayne; it's all they were talking about."

He nodded in understanding. "Yes, Hermione, but they don't think that you were actually together. The reason the Slytherins hate you, and no one is even talking about Malfoy, is that, well, they think you're lying about the whole thing. They think you made it up, like you're trying to ruin Malfoy's reputation." Hopkins rolled his eyes at this. "Either way, no one believes that Malfoy was ever actually with you."

Hermione stared at him for a moment, before sinking into her chair, and turning her head forward the stare at the professor. She wasn't listening, however. Her thoughts were a million miles away.

The whole school thought she had made it up.

What had Nott said to give them that impression? When she found that boy, she was going to stick his wand somewhere unpleasant.

She wasn't sure whether to be angry or upset that the school didn't think it was true. They now just thought she was a pathetic 'mudblood' trying to get some attention, like Draco would never look twice at her in reality. In reality, he really shouldn't have, but reality to Hermione had become weird quite a while ago.

"Great." She muttered to herself bitterly. Not only was Draco not there for her, but he was also getting played as the victim of a lying mudblood. She felt her quill snap in her fingers.

"I believe you, Hermione," Hopkins assured her, eyeing her hand with a wary expression. She was sick of those expressions. "I've seen firsthand that Malfoy had some obsession with you. At least, well...at least that's one person on your side, right?"

She nodded slowly. At least someone believed her. Somehow that fact didn't make her feel any better. One person out of hundreds. Those weren't good odds.

"He's a coward, Hermione. If he's not here facing this-helping you- then he's a coward."

She nodded again, staring at the broken pieces of her quill as they sat on the table. Yes, Draco was a coward, but she still loved him. Despite this, she still wanted him. A part of her still held hope that he might change.

It was ridiculous, really. She had honestly thought in the midst of all the scowls and dirty looks that Draco would step forward, pull her into his arms and tell them all that he loved her and that her blood didn't matter.

What kind of deluded world had she been living in?

This was the real world, where blood _did _matter, to the point where it had gotten people killed. Draco's father had been a known supporter of Voldemort, the biggest believer in blood purity. Self-preservation was a basic instinct, and Draco knew that his relationship with Hermione was tempting fate. Of course he wouldn't be there.

That didn't make it hurt any less, however, and it didn't make her any less angry. As understanding and empathetic as Hermione was, something had broken between them, something that would always be there. She knew now that he didn't really see her as an equal; he wouldn't fight for her.

She grabbed the broken quill and waved her wand towards it. The pieces joined back together and it looked almost as good as new, except for a small crack where it had broken before.

That would always be there.

* * *

><p>Blaise sat at his desk in potions that afternoon waiting for Hermione's arrival. He'd had quite a difficult day himself, and he could only imagine what Hermione's had been like. The whole school thought she was a liar, trying to tarnish Draco's reputation. What a joke. In that moment, Blaise was angry at his friend for not being there to set the rumours right.<p>

Blaise, himself, had received the brunt of his housemates that day. After dodging a few nasty hexes in the corridors, and being called a 'blood-traitor' multiple times, Blaise was not looking forward to going back to the Slytherin common room that night.

Potter and Weasley sat at the desk next to him, each of them were just as exhausted and fed-up as Blaise.

"I think we'll have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight," Potter muttered, as a particularly nasty scowl was directed their way from one of their housemates, "I don't particularly fancy being hexed while I'm asleep."

Blaise glanced at Potter. The boys' hair was messier than usual, and his glasses were on crooked, a sign that he'd had a rough day. Weasley merely sat with his head resting on his hand, glaring at the other Slytherins across the room.

"I'm surprised you two were even willing to get involved," Blaise commented, remembering the boys' previous animosity for Hermione. It was funny how quickly that had changed.

Potter shrugged, "Granger's not too bad. I just wish Draco wasn't being such a git. Maybe then I wouldn't have to keep casting shielding charms on her when she's walking alone in the corridor. I'm bloody exhausted."

"So you've been keeping an eye out for her then?" Blaise asked the boys. He had put it upon them that morning to make sure Hermione got to her classes safely whenever he wasn't around to do so himself. He had also given Neville the same responsibility, which he was likely struggling with at that moment.

Potter and Weasley both nodded.

"Not a single hex has gotten through. She's probably surprised that everyone's been going so easy on her," Weasley chuckled.

They were momentarily drawn from their conversation as Nott entered the classroom, and immediately the three boys' eyes narrowed on the teen. Nott, however, barely noticed the glares as he took his regular seat with Culver.

"That arrogant git," Weasley muttered darkly, "I'd like to give him a taste of every single hex I've blocked today."

Blaise couldn't help but agree. However, it was also _their_ fault that this had happened. They had purposely thrown the game. Hermione was having hexes thrown at her left, right and centre because of them. They had to make sure she was ok, at least until Draco turned up to set the record straight._ If_ he ever set the record straight.

"Nott's always been a git," Blaise pointed out, "I just wish this whole situation hadn't of happened. I just wish Malfoy would've never gone for Hermione if this was how it would turn out."

Both boys turned to him with shocked expressions.

"You really think that, mate?" Weasley asked wide-eyed. Blaise nodded.

"But you were one of the people who was pushing them to be together," Potter chimed in with a confused expression. Blaise nodded again.

"I know that," he admitted with a sigh, "But back then I actually thought that Hermione could change Draco-and she has-but not enough, obviously. All their relationship has caused is a bunch of crap for both of them."

Potter was silent for a moment. "Well it's a bit late for that sort of thinking. I guess if we had've let them continue on in secret they might've been ok. But at least this way they aren't lying to themselves. This is what would've happened eventually, because I doubt Granger would want to be a dirty secret forever."

Blaise nodded in agreement. He had shared the same thoughts. "You're right. Throwing the game was for the best. I just hope things start going better." He looked towards the door with annoyance. Where was Hermione?

"I'm sure they will, mate, as soon as the whole school knows the truth," Weasley said, as he turned to continue scowling at a boy across the room.

The Potions door swung open once more as Professor Snape stepped into the room. He was followed by a very satisfied-looking Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode and another two girls. Blaise watched the door for more movement, and his worry only increased when neither Neville nor Hermione entered after them.

"Where do you reckon they are?" Potter asked, voicing Blaise's worry. The Italian didn't answer as he stared suspiciously at Pansy.

"...it was worth the detentions," she was telling a fellow Slytherin, "You should've seen the look on that Mudbloods face when that hex hit her." She giggled at the memory, "Her pathetic friend, Longbottom, he was too late with that shielding spell. It's what she deserves for making up such horrible things about Draco."

Blaise felt his face grow hot with anger as he listened to Pansy. That stupid idiot. Of course she would take it into her own hands to protect Draco's reputation. It seemed she hadn't quite realised that Draco found her to be horrible and repulsive.

The chair scraped loudly on the floor as Blaise stood abruptly. The whole class turned to look at him as he left his desk and walked out of the Potions classroom, ignoring Snape's angry threats of detention as he went.

He walked swiftly out of the dungeons and up the stairs until he came to the doors of the Hospital wing. He pushed them open, and his eyes immediately fell onto a bed at the far end where Hermione was sitting, surrounded by Neville and Madam Pomfrey. The latter seemed to be tending to a head wound.

The group didn't hear him approach as he strode over. He paused next to Neville, who turned to him with an apologetic expression. He obviously felt responsible. Blaise couldn't help the swell of annoyance at the boy. Couldn't he block one jinx?

"What happened?" he asked no one in particular. The nurse and Hermione turned to him, surprised at his sudden presence. Hermione's had a large gash on her head that the nurse was cleaning off.

"Mr Zabini," the nurse berated glancing at him with a strict expression, "you should be in class. Now, off with you. Miss Granger will be fine."

"Tell me what happened first," he prodded, not taking his eyes off the large laceration, "What did Pansy do?"

"It was a tripping jinx," Neville provided, "she fell and hit her head."

"Why didn't you block it?" he asked Neville, barely containing his frustration. The boy opened his mouth to explain, but he was interrupted by Hermione.

"It's not Neville's fault, Blaise," she said strongly, "I was bound to be targeted by everyone after all this. I'm surprised only one person tried." She said wryly.

Blaise couldn't bring himself to inform her that a lot more then that had tried to hurt her. He would prefer to let her believe otherwise.

"I think I'll have to inform your head of house about this, Miss Granger," the nurse said, her voice full of sympathy, "the events of today cannot merely be ignored. If you're unsafe within the school, something must be done."

Blaise wondered why they had never done anything before, back when Draco was a constant problem for her. Perhaps his father was more influential than they realised.

Hermione nodded as the nurse finished healing her cut. "Ok."

The nurse inspected her work, before handing Hermione a potion. "Take this for the pain. I'll let Professor McGonagall know that she needs to have a talk with you."

Hermione nodded, before downing the potion in one gulp. The nurse looked pleased as she turned to Blaise and Neville." I'll give you five minutes, and then you'll have to be off to class."

She left the three students as she entered her office. They stood silently for a moment, before Blaise spoke.

"Are you really ok, Hermione?" he asked, trying to examine her face for any signs of distress, "I'm sorry for what happened."

Hermione shook her head with a wry smile on her face. "It's not your fault Pansy Parkinson has it in for me. She thinks I'm a liar, just like the rest of the school." He saw her eyes flash with some unknown emotion.

"We know you're not a liar, Hermione," Neville said in the way of comfort. She gave him a small smile. It was nice that he would try to cheer her up.

"You guys should probably get back to class..." She said after a moment, "I'll have to borrow your notes."

"You're not coming?" Neville asked, wide-eyed. It was unusual for Hermione to skip classes, and she'd already skipped two that morning.

Blaise could understand why she wouldn't want to face the class.

She shook her head, trying to plant a smile on her face, "No...I think I'll just go and lay down in my dorm for a while. I'm a little shaken up still."

The two boys nodded in understanding. "I'll see you after class," Neville said as he turned and headed toward the door. Blaise gave her one last concerned look before he too exited the hospital.

Hermione let out a sigh, before gathering up her bag and heading upstairs to the Gryffindor dorms. When she reached her bed, she immediately dropped her bag and flung herself into her pillows. She couldn't fight the tears that stung in her eyes as she thought about the day she'd just experienced.

Hermione had never been subject to gossip, nor was she ever noticed. The only people that ever payed attention to her had been the Silver Marauders, because of Draco. Other than that, she had been an anonymous character in the school. She hadn't been pretty, or popular, she'd just been 'book worm Hermione'.

She hated this. The constant looks, glares, whispers. For the first time in her life, Hermione missed being in the shadows. She missed being in the background.

Damn Draco. Where was he? Was he hoping if he stayed away things would die down? If he did he was stupid. He had to come back and face this sometime. He was the 'victim' in the school, but he would not be getting it so easy with Hermione. Did he even still care for her anymore?

Suddenly a weight around her neck felt heavy and electric against her skin. The necklace. She had been wearing it so long it had almost become a part of her.

She pulled the silver chain out from under her jumper and stared at the silver shell swaying from side to side above her. In all honesty, she was scared to put it to her ear, in case there was nothing. A deafening silence that would speak louder than words.

After a few moment of silent contemplation, she willed her courage and grabbed the silver pendent in her hand. She slowly brought it to her ear. She was immediately soothed by the most beautiful, melodic music she had heard.

She let out a relieved breath. He still cared. Somehow, in all the horribleness that had happened today, that seemed to be a silver lining. Some sort of hope.

She drifted off into blissful dreams of stormy grey eyes and alabaster skin, all the while keeping the small silver shell to her ear.

* * *

><p>She woke abruptly to the sound of muffled voices sometime later. The room was far darker, and as her consciousness came back to her, she recognised those voices as those of her roommates.<p>

"...obviously a lie. Draco can get any girl. He dated Ginny Weasley, for goodness sake; he wouldn't lower himself to Hermione. She's not his type." That was Parvarti Patil.

"Hermione's a bookworm. I think she's still a virgin, too. I know Draco wouldn't waste his time on a virgin. I mean, look at him!" That was Lavender.

Hermione felt her eyes prick again, this time with angry tears. Why was it so hard to believe that Draco might like someone like her?

She made a show of closing her eyes and rolling over, and was pleased when the gossiping girls fell silent immediately. She sat up, ignoring their stares, and glanced out the window. It was dark. She must have missed dinner. Oh well, she didn't have much of an appetite anyway.

She slipped out of bed, not bothering to acknowledge the girls around her. She was still in her wrinkled uniform from earlier that day, and her hair had returned to its natural frizz.

She left the dorm a moment later, not bothering to fix her appearance. It wouldn't matter. Anyone that came upon her would stare regardless of whether or not her hair looked like poodle fur.

She only had one idea of where to go, the same place she had gone many nights before. Well, before today happened and tainted those memories. The secret room on the 7th floor wouldn't be the same, but despite the hurt she would feel facing it alone, it was much better that the stares that would bore into the side of her head if she stayed in her dorm.

Couldn't these people just get over it?

Perhaps Madam Pomfrey was right. Maybe it would take a while for all this drama to die down. Even though it was only the first day, Hermione was sick of it already. She knew the Slytherins would not forget easily, and despite the fact that they were the house most active in everything, she could see the judgemental glares of the Ravenclaws and the superior stares of the Hufflepuffs.

They all thought she was a pathetic liar. How wrong they were.

She continued up the staircase to the fifth floor, and found herself pausing on the landing. It was probably the worst time to reminisce, but she couldn't help it. This corridor reminded her of Draco.

The way he had pointed his wand at her, and sneered at her like she were the bane of his existence. Perhaps she _was_ the bane of his existence. He was certainly hers, now.

She sighed and continued walking.

Draco hadn't been spotted in school all day. Was he hiding away, fearing that the rumours wouldn't be quite so beneficial to him? Hermione didn't know; however, whenever she thought about the events of that morning, and Draco's absence, she only found herself getting angry with him.

He should be here.

She turned into the 7th floor corridor, barely registering her surroundings as she strolled along. The closer she got to _her _room, the more anxious she felt.

Why had she come here? This was a terrible idea. Despite those sentiments, her feet kept on, and she found herself turning the corner into the corridor where the painting of the troll ballet was perched on the wall.

As soon as she made it around the bend, her feet faulted from underneath her, and she found herself nearly falling onto her face on the stone floor.

She was not alone in the corridor.

In front of the wall where the door would appear, a lone figure stood, leaning against the wall. There was no mistaking the tall frame, lean muscles, marble skin and silver hair. It was Draco.

She regained her balance by placing a steadying hand on the wall next to her. The figure kicked off the wall, and came towards her, hands in pockets, head down.

It was funny how all her good memories of Draco were abolished the moment he abandoned her that morning, and all she could think of now was the person he used to be. She had to consciously remind herself not to run away or pull out her wand as he came closer.

His face appeared in the light, and Hermione gasped out loud. His eye was bruised. Perhaps not everyone believed the rumours the way they had been told. Perhaps someone else suspected the truth. She wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad about that.

"Hermione," he began. His voice was raspy, as though he were close to losing it. "I'm sorry."

Well, that was rather to the point. She didn't know what to say. She had expected to be able to yell at him a bit before he relented so easily. She _wanted_ to yell at him, to scream that he was a liar, a ruse. He'd tricked her, hadn't he?

"Where were you?" She asked, trying to keep her voice level. "I haven't seen you all day; no one has. Did you just leave me here to deal with this myself? Do you know what everyone thinks?"

He looked at her with a pained expression. She wasn't sure if it was from guilt, or actual physical pain. Why did he look such a mess?

"I was going to be here. I was."

Hermione crossed her arms defensively, her eyes prickling. _Damnit. Don't cry_.

"You weren't though, were you? You ran away like a coward."

That seemed to spark something in him, and his head shot up, his eyes filled with a fire Hermione had never seen. "I'm _not_ a coward." He ground out, "I was going to be there, I was right behind Blaise, but it seems that Pansy felt the need to inform my father last night, before she moved on to the rest of the school."

His eyes went empty as he spoke, and Hermione stomach sank. Oh Merlin. She had been her blaming him; cursing him...

"It seems that Lucius Malfoy can't make it to his son's birthdays, or Quidditch games, but give him a rumour like that and he's there in a second." He chuckled wryly. "He took me back to the manor for the day, just to..._converse._"

Hermione's stomach felt even heavier with guilt. She had been complaining about a few nasty glares, and one stray hex, she didn't even want to think about what Draco had suffered from the hands of his own father.

She suddenly remembered the rumours, no one thought Draco was involved, so why did his father?

"But the rumours," Hermione began, her brows furrowed in confusion, "the rumours are saying I just made it up. Why doesn't your father believe that?"

Draco gave her a plain stare. "Who do you think told Pansy to spread those rumours instead, Granger? My father would rather that, then the truth."

Hermione stared at him for a moment. She had been blaming Nott for those rumours, but it seems Pansy was the source. Of course she wouldn't want Draco's name to be tarnished like that. Nott, on the other hand, had no reason to spare Draco's reputation in those rumours, if anything, he wanted to ruin Draco, and Hermione was just collateral damage.

"So...your father knows about us?" Hermione asked. She wasn't sure why that was the question she wanted to ask.

He merely nodded. Hermione wondered what this would mean for them. As though sensing her fears, he answered.

"He told me not to see you anymore..." he looked her square in the eye. "It would be for the best. You're not going to be safe while you're with me."

Hermione stared at him for a moment. Was he really saying this? She swallowed thickly.

"It's not up to you to decide that for me," she argued, "I'm quite capable of looking after myself."

He sighed. "Hermione, if my father finds out we're still together, he won't go after me. It'll be you. Do you get that?"

"I get it," she snapped, bristling at his tone, "I'm just saying, is this really about me, or are you just considering this a lucky escape? No one knows about you and I if you leave now."

He looked taken aback at her accusation. "Do you really think that's what this is about?"

She shrugged, keeping a cool demeanour, while silently panicking on the inside. "I just find it odd that you spend a day in your father's presence and suddenly you're worried about my safety. That didn't bother you before. And just for the record, my safety is already affected." She caught his eye, her voice filling with sincerity, "Ending this, _us_, now, makes everything pointless. It all would've happened for no reason."

He stared at her for a moment, as though he no longer had an argument, and was merely giving up.

"I'm not like you, Hermione," he began, his voice sounded weak, like all the fight had left him, "I'm not some courageous Gryffindor. I want to be with you, I do, but...I'm not ready for everything that comes with being with you. I can't stand the torture from my father and housemates. I got angry before when you called me a coward, because you're spot on. That's what I am."

Hermione could only stare at him as he spoke. The fact that he seemed so willing to give up hurt her more than if he were to get angry and yell about it. That's what she thought would happen. They'd yell, get their feelings out, and then they'd make up. This was different.

He was giving up.

"So, that's it?" she accused, anger getting the better of it, "You're just opting out, leaving me to put up with this by myself? You said you loved me! We- I-I gave you everything!"

She choked back the lump in her throat, and hated herself even more for being so weak while he seemed incredibly unaffected. She flinched as two warm arms wrapped around her, and immediately she pushed them away.

"Don't touch me!" She cried as a tear ran down her cheek, "You don't have the right to touch me anymore!"

"Hermione, please-,"

"No," she snapped, fixing him with a glare. "You haven't changed at all. Deep down, you're still the same selfish, self-serving idiot who would hex me months ago. Why don't you just do us both a favour and go back to that?"

She was pleased at the expression that adorned his face at her comment. He looked wounded; now he may know a fraction of the hurt she felt.

"Hermione, we don't have to be like this," he began, moving toward her, "I've been thinking. After school, I'm going to leave here. I'm going to go to France, where nobody knows me...where nobody knows you. We could be together, and it wouldn't matter to anybody."

Hermione couldn't believe it. She almost let herself get swept up in the words he was saying. They could be together, soon, and it would be nobody's business but their own.

"And what happens until then?" She questioned. He swallowed thickly.

"Well, we would just have to wait until then-,"

"Are you ashamed to be with me?" She questioned suddenly. The words were out before she even realised what she'd said. He looked confronted.

"No, I'm not," he assured her, "I'm just trying to do what's best for us."

She was growing frustrated with this conversation. "Why don't you let me have a say in what's best for us? You've made all these decisions, but who says I agree with them? I want to be with you, Draco, _now_. I don't care what people say or do. It doesn't matter to me." She sniffled, "I think this is really about you. Deep down, you know that no matter how many times you told me my blood doesn't matter to you, it does, because you don't want people judging you for being with me. I think that's what's stopping you."

She could see by his expression that she'd hit the nail on the head. But she also knew he would never admit that, whether it was so he didn't upset her, or so he didn't cause irreparable damage between them, she didn't know.

But she knew that to him, she would always be inferior.

"I'm not-It's- You're nothing to be ashamed of, Hermione." He assured her, his voice softening along with his expression, "You're smart, and- and beautiful. You're everything that I have wanted for years. But this is a lot bigger than judgement and hate. This is our safety- our lives- on the line. When school finishes, I'll get some money together and we'll leave. We don't have to face these people again."

She stared at him for a long moment. It would be so easy to give into her desires, say yes to his plan, and blatantly ignore the reasons why they needed to be a secret in the first place.

However, Hermione had dignity, and despite everything, self respect. Draco was telling her to forget that her blood mattered to him, to forget that she was a Muggleborn. That was not possible. That was who she was. And if he loved her like he claimed, he would accept her for that.

"I don't want that, Draco. I don't want to do that."

They were the hardest words she could have said, because they were a complete lie. However, they needed to be said. She would never be able to forgive herself if she didn't.

He looked confused, hurt, and surprised. "But, Hermione," he urged, "that's the only way we can really be together."

She hated that he was really that blind. "No, it not, Draco. If that's the only way I can be with you, running and hiding from the people who know us, then I don't want that."

He stood listening intently, his eyes never leaving hers. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm her heart beat and perhaps dislodge the lump that had just returned to her throat.

"I know you love me. I do," She continued, her voice quiet, "But I love you in a completely different way. I love you because of your faults. Your snotty attitude, your short temper, the fact that you have a tendency to bully people. I love you because of those things."

He stood there, looking unsure of where the conversation was headed.

"But you, you love me despite my blood, despite the fact that I'm not popular, not a Slytherin, not rich. The thing is, these things still matter to you, some more than others. But at the end of the day, you can't be with me completely if you're intentionally trying to ignore the fact that I'm a Muggleborn. It'll come up one day, Draco. Running from it won't help."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she silenced him with her hand and continued.

"I just don't think you love me enough. If you did, you wouldn't even consider being ashamed of my blood, just like I'm not ashamed of your bad qualities."

She finished feeling better for the fact that she said what she really thought. Draco, it seemed, was not expecting that, because he had nothing to say. He merely stared at her as though he wanted to argue back, but deep down he knew it was all true.

He loved her, but not enough.

Everything caught up with Hermione quickly. The emotions she thought she had successfully banished were rising in her throat. She needed to get away before she did something ridiculous like take back everything she'd just said.

"I've got to go," she said, hastily, "I don't think there's really anything more to say."

She turned on her foot, and began to stride back the way she had come. She heard footsteps behind her.

"Hermione, wait! We can work something out! Please, just stop."

She didn't even fault in her steps at the fact that for the first time, Draco Malfoy seemed to be begging. Or the fact that, for the first time, his voice wasn't steady and confident. It shook.

"I'm sorry," she said earnestly, before slipping down another corridor and onto the seventh floor landing. She looked behind her one last time. Draco was standing there in the darkness of the corridor, looking at her as though the sun had just left the earth's orbit.

She swallowed thickly, and walked quickly in the opposite direction down the staircase. He didn't follow this time.

* * *

><p>By the 6th floor landing, the lump in Hermione's throat had become too much, and she finally relented. She tried to muffle her sobs with her hand, but it was no use. They echoed around the staircase anyway.<p>

It was times like this that Hermione wished she didn't share a dorm. She couldn't possibly walk back into her room sobbing like a maniac. That would only fuel the flame of rumours.

The only place that she could think of going was the prefect bathroom on the fifth floor. That would provide her with some peace and a place to sit until her roommates were certain to be asleep.

It was just a shame it brought back such horrible memories.

The fifth floor corridor was empty when she entered it; the only sound was her breaths leaving her lungs in shaky pants.

She didn't even want to think that she and Draco were over, despite the fact that their conversation could only be taken one way. She would be ok, she tried to convince herself.

She had been perfectly fine before Draco came along, and she'd be fine without him. Sure, the whole school thought she was a liar. Yes, they were trying to hex and intimidate her. But besides all that it would be ok, right?

"Look! It's the lying little mudblood!" A shrill voice echoed from the other end of the corridor.

Crap. Perhaps not.

Hermione didn't even have to look around to know who that horrible voice belonged to.

Pansy was coming toward her, devilish grin on her face, flanked by two other Slytherin girls. Hermione considered running for a moment, but realised they had their wands out and would most likely hex her along the way. Perhaps she could talk them out of whatever horrible punishment they were planning.

She realised a second later, as a spell ricocheted off the wall beside her head, that she was wrong. She dodged the hex, and fell on all fours on the stone floor, hearing a loud crack from her knee as she did. That would bruise.

She pulled out her wand from her robe pocket and cast a shielding charm just in time for another spell to rebound back at the group of girls. They scattered away from the red light as it came shooting back at them.

"You stupid mudblood! That singed my robes!" One of the girls growled at her.

Hermione looked up from between a curtain of curls to find that the girls sleeve was burnt from where she hadn't quite been fast enough.

The girl looked livid. Hermione almost scoffed, as if she didn't have another one-or twenty- in her closet.

"I think we should teach the little mudblood a lesson!" Pansy sneered, "Make her think twice about making up lies!"

Hermione had to laugh at that one. "I think you know the truth Pansy." She goaded quite stupidly, "Don't be upset that Draco doesn't like you, it's not your fault you're an insufferable, whiny brat."

The two girls, who were flanking Pansy, looked at the girl between them with wide eyes, obviously waiting for instruction. Pansy's face had grown red with anger and she was gritting her teeth.

"He obviously doesn't want _you_, mudblood!" She shot back, before flicking her wand in quick succession. Hermione blocked the spells successfully, but as the other girls joined in, her energy was becoming depleted.

She took advantage of a break in their hexes to send a stunning spell at the group. The girl on Pansy's left wasn't quick enough with a shielding spell and fell backwards, unconscious.

Unfortunately, Hermione had left herself open for too long and a spell hit her arm, causing a large cut to appear. She hissed in pain; it was her wand arm. She had no choice now but to run from the two girls, so run she did.

She had only made it a few feet before she ran into a tall figure that had obviously heard the commotion, and had come to see what had happened. Hermione, in her haste, managed to fall flat on her stomach on the stone floor. All she could see of the person in front of her was their shiny black Dragon-hide dress shoes.

And a green trim of colour around the bottom of their robes.

Oh crap.

She was surprised however, when the figure moved past her, and actually shielded her from the girls who were behind her, cackling at her previous fall.

Maybe, just maybe, Draco had followed her. She attempted to push herself up, in order to see, but merely hissed as her arm throbbed in pain.

"What the hell are you doing?" A low, aristocratic voice sounded out of the silence. Hermione's heart sunk. It wasn't Draco, but merely the smart-ass, insufferable git known as Theodore Nott.

"We were just having some fun Nott," Pansy whined, as though he'd broken up a party, "she deserves it."

Hermione heard Nott scoff. "Does she now? I think you know full well that she doesn't. Merely because you're a jealous twat doesn't mean that she deserves anything."

Pansy was silent for a moment. "You're the one that told me to tell people!" She argued back.

Hermione already knew that.

"I told you to tell them the _truth_, Parkinson," Nott said, his voice full of exasperation, "not some little made up lie because you can't stand that Malfoy doesn't want you."

"He does want me! Our parents are already making plans for us to be betrothed! You just wait!"

Hermione could imagine Nott rolling his eyes at the girl.

"Get out of here, before I take points, you idiot." He merely said, as though he couldn't stand to be in her presence any longer. Hermione didn't blame him.

"Blood traitor," Pansy hissed at the boy as she passed. Hermione could hardly believe it. Nott was hardly a friend of Muggleborns.

Hermione heard footsteps pass by her head a second later, and she knew the girls had left the corridor. Thank Merlin.

"Are you just going to lie on the floor like an idiot all night?" She heard a snarky voice ask from behind her. Hermione tried to control her annoyance for the boy; he had just helped her after all.

"My arm's cut," she ground out as she attempted to push herself off the floor. She heard a loud sigh behind her as two hands grabbed her arms and yanked her off the ground.

"Hey! Do you have to be so rough!" She cried, as she attempted to steady herself.

"I would have done it more gently had it not felt like I was lifting a full-grown Hippogriff," he said simply, "You really need to lay off the deserts at dinner, Granger."

Hermione scowled at him, before crossing her arms in front of her stomach self-consciously. "You really are an ass."

"Always," he said with a large grin, "What are you even doing walking around at this time of night anyway? It's not safe for you, you know." He said in a condescending voice. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I know that," she said haughtily, "I was merely sick of my roommates. Everyone just keeps staring at me."

He nodded, looking uninterested in her plight.

"Well it _is_ your own fault, Granger." He said simply. Hermione sputtered indignantly for a moment. Her fault?! How was it her fault?

"It's not my fault!" she cried, "It's yours! You're the one who told everyone!"

He merely shrugged, "And you're the one who believed Malfoy would declare his love for you in front of the entire school." He shot back, effectively silencing her, "This all started the moment you began feeling more than hate for him, Granger, and you know it."

She hated to admit that he was right, but he was. She could blame Nott all she wanted, but at the end of the day, her ignorance was what had gotten her into this in the first place.

"What's this?" Nott began, his voice full of mock disbelief, "Hermione Granger had nothing to say! Surprise, surprise."

She sent him one of her nastiest scowls.

"Hey, hey," he scolded, "let's not get nasty. I did just save you from getting your head hexed into a pineapple."

"I doubt they'd even have the knowledge to do that," Hermione informed him, haughtily.

"That's true," he agreed, surprisingly, "Pansy's an idiot. I'll have you know, if I had my way, it would be Malfoy getting hexed in every corridor, not you."

Hermione looked up at the boy, eyes wide. "Is that some weird version of an apology?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Merlin, no. It's still funny to watch you fall flat on your face." He chuckled to himself a little.

Her expression returned to a scowl. "Of course, you'd love seeing the 'mudblood' put in her place wouldn't you?" She spat.

He rolled his eyes, as though she were overreacting about something. "It's not that at all Granger. Your blood doesn't even bother me. I merely just get amusement out of this sort of thing."

Hermione let out a rather unladylike snort, which Nott raised an eyebrow at. "You're telling me you don't care about blood purity? Ha! You've called me a mudblood, and you're a Slytherin! I may have fallen for Draco's lies, Nott, but that doesn't mean I'm gullible."

Nott rolled his eyes. "I'm not explaining myself to you, Granger. Just get to bed before I take points."

She gave him a queer expression before turning on her foot and heading toward the staircase. Nott was a strange guy, but perhaps he wasn't as evil as he seemed.

"And bloody hell, Granger," he called to her back, his voice full of disgust, "do something about that frizz-ball hair."

Ok. He was an ass. Plain and simple.

She was pleased to find all her housemates asleep when she entered her dorm that night. After showering, fixing her hair, and falling into bed, she was left with nothing but poisonous thoughts.

Why didn't Draco lover her enough to be with her? Would she always be looked down on for her blood? What would tomorrow bring in the way of dirty looks and hexes?

She could only hope that some of the drama had died down by then, but somehow she knew that it wouldn't have. She wasn't sure if things would ever go back to normal.

She fell asleep that night with a feeling of dread, sadness and worry in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

><p>"Checkmate," Weasley said proudly, grinning down at the chess board between him and Potter. Potter growled in frustration, and threw a pawn at the wall. The piece ran under one of the beds for protection.<p>

"Bloody stupid game!" The boy cried, "That's the last time I'm playing it!"

Weasley and Blaise chuckled at the teen.

"Bit of a sore loser, mate?" Blaise goaded, receiving a scowl from Potter. Potter and Weasley chuckled again, but fell silent as the door to their dorm swung open.

When the blonde hair, pale skin, and bruised eye of Draco slipped into the room, all three boys shot up and stared wide eyed.

"Where the bloody hell have you been!" Weasley crowed at him.

"Do you realise what's been going on mate?" Potter added.

Blaise stood staring at his friend. His overall appearance was horrible. His black eye stood like a streak of blood across a snowy field. Blaise could hardly comprehend where to start his questioning, unlike the others. A part of him felt like he should wait til tomorrow, merely because Draco looked as though he'd already had enough for one day.

"I know about everything," Draco muttered, his voice raspy, "I should've been here, I know. But my father had other plans."

The three teens opposite of Draco shared a dark look between them.

"Is that where you got that?" Potter asked, nodding toward Draco's bruised eye. The teen nodded.

"I guess it's not as enjoyable using a wand all the time." He said, rather unemotionally.

"Have you seen Hermione?" Blaise asked, talking for the first time since his friend had walked in. Draco met his friends eye, and Blaise could see the boy was in pain; not just the physical kind.

He nodded. "I saw her..." He replied vaguely.

"And?" Weasley prodded.

"And nothing." Draco snapped, "It's over. There's nothing more to say about Granger."

The three boys shared another look, this time one of concern and surprise.

"What the hell happened?" Potter questioned. He looked as though he was unable to fathom how the events of today could lead to this.

Draco let out a long, temperamental sigh. "What did you think would happen after today? That we'd ride off into the sunset? I told you, it wasn't the right time for this to come out. I just needed until the end of school. I just needed some time."

He slumped on the end of his bed, head in his hands. "I can't even be with her now. Not with rumours like this."

"Sure you can, mate," Weasley encouraged him, "Screw what everyone thinks!"

Draco looked up through his lashes. "The problem is my father wouldn't have it. He already did this to his own son, what would he do to her?"

The group was silent for a moment.

"So what happens now?" Potter asked no one in particular.

"Nothing happens," Draco answered, his voice emotionless, "nothing _can_ happen. It's over between Granger and I. I was stupid to think it would work in the first place. We're too different. I can't just run from who I am or ask her to do the same...no matter how much I want her."

Blaise stared at his friend for a long moment. This was not how he thought the day would turn out when he'd woken up that morning.

Hermione had received the full brunt of the confession. Draco's father had intervened. And now, it seemed, they were both giving up.

Blaise was physically tired. Was a relationship that had so many obstacles even viable in the first place? He couldn't understand.

Things for him and Luna had come so easily. He had stuck by her side, even when people were making nasty comments, and now things were great. Sure, he hadn't seen her all day because of this drama going on, but he knew that tomorrow when he came from behind and pulled her into a hug that things would be like they always were.

He felt bad for Draco. Bad that he had caused this mess, and bad that things weren't working out. This time he had no encouragement for him, no words of wisdom, no silver lining. It seemed that this was it.

"I'm sorry, mate," was all Blaise could think to say.

Blaise was sorry for encouraging their love from the beginning, sorry for interfering, and sorry that it now seemed that Hermione Granger would never be Draco's.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke late the next day. She sat up tiredly. Her head felt groggy, her limbs sore, and the cut on her arm was still throbbing. She would go to the hospital wing to get that healed first, then perhaps if she was lucky, she might make it down for some breakfast. She couldn't remember the last proper meal she'd had. Even though she didn't have much of an appetite, she supposed she should eat.<p>

She dressed quickly, not bothering with her appearance. People would stare anyway; at least it would give them something else to talk about. She slipped her bag over the shoulder of her good arm and made it downstairs to the common room.

It was completely empty, except for the stern figure of Professor McGonagall who was standing by the fireplace as though she were waiting for someone.

"Good morning, Professor," Hermione greeted as cheerfully as possible. The professor nodded once.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," she returned in her thick Scottish accent, "I was hoping I could perhaps have a chat with you."

Hermione suddenly remembered her conversation with Madame Pomfrey the day before. She was going to get Professor McGonagall to talk to her about everything that was happening. Hermione suddenly dreaded this conversation.

"Ah...of course, Professor," she agreed hesitantly. She moved to sit on one of the couches by the fireplace. The professor sat across from her.

"I understand you've been having some personal problems, Miss Granger," McGonagall began. Well, she didn't beat around the bush.

Hermione nodded, "I guess you could say that."

The professor eyed her for a moment. "While it's not my place to get involved in the personal life of my students, Miss Granger, when I'm alerted that a student is having their safety at this school threatened, I must intervene."

Hermione wanted to point out that her safety had been threatened multiple times by the Silver Marauders, but she held her tongue on that point. "It was just the one incident before Potions yesterday, Professor," she lied, "I'm sure you've spoken to Madam Pomfrey about it."

She wasn't sure why she had lied. All she knew was that no matter what the teachers did to ensure her safety right now, at least someone would have it in for her.

"I have spoken to Poppy, and if it were merely one stray incident perhaps I would let it slide, but the fact that I was alerted by a student, a Slytherin at that, that your safety was in danger, I must take action."

Hermione furrowed her brow. A student? Was it Blaise? Or maybe...? No. Don't think of _him_ now, Hermione.

"A student?" She questioned out loud. The professor nodded.

"Yes, Theodore Nott came to inform me of an incident that occurred last night while he was patrolling." Hermione gaped at the woman, "He was rather concerned and informed me that many of his fellow housemates are targeting you. We cannot have that."

Nott, concerned about her? Hermione almost laughed out loud at the thought. What was that boy playing at? She let those thoughts slide for a moment as she focused on what the professor was saying.

"I've contacted your parents by floo this morning. As you know, your fireplace is connected to the network," Hermione nodded. It had been connected to allow the school to contact her parents in case of emergencies.

"I explained to them the situation, and that I believe it would be best if you took a break from school for a while." Hermione felt herself panicking. She didn't want to leave Hogwarts.

"But my parents work at the practice every day," Hermione informed her, hoping that perhaps she'd change her mind, "I'd be home alone anyway."

The Professor nodded, "Yes, they did mention that. However, they think it might be nice for you to take a break and perhaps visit your Aunt for however long it takes you to feel better."

Visit her Aunt Edith? But her family lived in the middle of nowhere practically...

"I feel fine now, Professor, really. This is nothing I can't handle." She really didn't want to leave Hogwarts. She had her only support here; but then again, all her problems were here too.

"I'm afraid it's already organised." The professor informed her, "Your Aunt has been notified, and we'll be activating the floo at lunchtime. I suggest you go up and pack what you need. And get your arm looked at." She added. Hermione hadn't realised there was a blood stain on her white shirt.

The professor stood, and walked toward the portrait hole, before pausing. "And Hermione," she said, her voice softening for the first time, "you're one of the most talented witches I've seen come through this school in a very long time. Don't let anyone tell you you don't deserve to be here."

Hermione swallowed thickly before nodding. However, she couldn't help but think if she deserved to be here, why were they making her leave?

She supposed there was no point in arguing, however, and merely trudged back up stairs to pack her things.

* * *

><p>Blaise stood waiting by the doors of the entrance hall that morning. He was waiting for Luna to come downstairs; he couldn't help but notice he hadn't seen her much yesterday.<p>

"Look at all those girls," Weasley scoffed, glaring at a group of Ravenclaws, "they're all staring at Draco as though he's some sort of sick Pygmy Puff."

Draco scowled at the red head for that comparison. "You think I want all this attention? I wish I could just leave..."

"Don't worry mate, if you get sick of it, I'll be more than happy to intervene," Potter said with a large grin as he sent a wink to one of the girls. She didn't even notice it as her eyes were fixed on Draco.

"Stupid girls," the spectacled boy grumbled, "They don't know what they're missing."

"I'm pretty sure they do, since you've snogged half of them," Weasley reminded him with a chuckle.

Blaise rolled his eyes before zoning out of _that_ particular conversation. His eyes landed back on the stairs just in time to see Luna jump off the last step and walk towards the doors. She didn't even look at him. Hmm, perhaps she had something on her mind like the breeding habits of Nargles.

Blaise grinned at the thought.

"Luna!" he called to the blonde girl as she reached the doors. She paused in her steps, as though she were hesitating about whether to keep walking, before turning around and looked at him. Her expression was rather cold; not like the ones he usually got off her. His smile faltered as he walked towards her.

"Good morning," he said with false cheer. He couldn't help the feeling of foreboding in his stomach. Why was she looking at him like that?

"Is it?" she questioned, looking around, "I hadn't noticed."

He frowned. Something was definitely wrong.

"So, how did you go on that Charms homework the other day?" he asked, hoping she would perk up a bit. "I know you would've done great." He grinned at her. She didn't return it.

"I did well enough, I suppose," she said vaguely. She checked her watch. "I really should be getting to breakfast, I'm starved."

She turned and began to walk away, leaving Blaise with a sick feeling in his stomach, and a frown on his face.

"Luna, wait!" he called after her. She paused for a moment, before turning.

"Yes?"

"W-what's going on?" he asked, trying to make his voice calm, "What's wrong?"

She sighed. "Why don't you ask Ginny?"

She turned and walked away from him again. This time he didn't call her back.

Ginny? What did Ginny have to do with it? He was suddenly angry.

What did the girl say to Luna about him? Was this part of her plan to get him? He'd assumed that her little fling was over with and that she'd moved on to some other poor soul.

He began to panic. What if the damage was irreparable? Luna seemed as though she couldn't look at him. He hated it.

After an extremely long and agonising breakfast which consisted most of staring longingly at Luna, and scowling at an oblivious Ginny from across the room, he stood when the red head headed for the doors, just in time for the bell.

He followed her up the stairs, and down a few corridors, where students were waiting for their classes. Luckily for him, she took a short cut behind one of the portraits; he followed.

She didn't even have time to look behind him as he pushed her against the wall at arm's length and glared at her. After her initial shocked yelp, she realised who it was and merely eyed him as though he'd lost it.

He felt like he had. He hated her.

"What the hell are you doing, Blaise?" She shouted at him, "Get off me, you idiot!"

He held her against the wall as she struggled. "Not until you tell me what you said to Luna to make her hate me!"

Ginny stilled in her struggle and merely stared at him. Oh yes, he knew for certain now that she'd done something.

"Blaise, we didn't mean for her to hear-,"

"Hear what?" he interrupted. He was not in the mood to hear her excuses.

Ginny hesitated for a moment. "When you were in the hospital wing unconscious, after your Quidditch accident...I visited you. Hermione saw me kiss you."

"Hermione knew about all this?" he asked. Ginny nodded. Why hadn't she said anything? Then again, she did have her own problems lately. Still, would it have hurt to give him a heads up? He felt betrayed.

It suddenly dawned on him. Ginny had kissed him while he was out cold. "What the hell were you doing kissing me in the first place?" he shouted in her face, "I told you, just give up already!"

"It's not like up some sort of pervert, Blaise!" She shouted back, "It was my way of saying goodbye. I _was_ giving up. I have."

"But you thought you'd do a little more damage before then, did you?" he spat. He had no sympathy for her pathetic feelings.

"No! I told you, no one was meant to know. Hermione, she got angry at me, but she agreed not to say anything. Luna overheard the other day, though..."

Blaise stepped back. "Why is she angry at me for something you did while I was unconscious?"

Ginny bit her lip. "She doesn't know you were unconscious..."

Blaise ran his hands through his hair angrily. "So she thinks I cheated on her with _you_?" he sneered as he looked down at her.

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with me!" she cried, obviously offended by his tone, "But yes, that's what she thinks. She won't hang around long enough for me to explain, and Hermione's got her own problems."

He laughed mirthlessly. "So you just left it, til I found out. She's barely speaking to me!"

"That's not my fault, Blaise!" She shot back, "You know the truth now, go and tell it to her!"

He stared at her for a moment, the urge to hex her tempting him to the extremes. It was times like this, times when people wronged him, that he knew why he was put in Slytherin.

"If you've ruined this for me, Weasley," he threatened in a low, dangerous voice, "You're life is not going to be worth living."

He left her with that threat as he walked out of the secluded area, and back into the main corridors. He would try to explain to Luna what had happened; try to get her to understand. She was everything to him, and if he lost everything, he would have nothing left to lose by making Ginny Weasley pay.

* * *

><p>Hermione stood in the office of Professor McGonagall that lunch time with her trunk sitting beside her. She was about to floo to her Aunt's house, a place she hadn't visited since she was 10. She wasn't looking forward to it.<p>

"Alright, Miss Granger," the professor began, moving toward the roaring fireplace, "It's time to go. Try to enjoy the break. I know you've likely packed a dozen books in hat trunk of yours, but I'd prefer you didn't spend the whole time reading them." She gave the girl a pointed look, to which Hermione looked away guiltily. It wasn't quite that many.

"Take this opportunity to relax," the Professor reiterated, "and let's hope for your sake that things have died down when you get back."

Hermione nodded. She hoped so too. She moved towards the fireplace, before grabbing a handful of Floo powder and throwing it into the flames. They immediately turned green, and Hermione rolled her trunk into the large fireplace, before getting in herself. She shouted the address of her Aunt's house clearly, and closed her eyes as the Professors' face disappeared and she was pulled through the floo network.

She immediately hit her head on her Aunts fireplace when she landed.

"Oh, dear," her Aunt cooed, bustling forward. "Is your head alright? I suppose the fireplace is a little small..."

Hermione rubbed her head. "It's fine Aunt Edith." She assured her with a forced smile, "It's great to see you."

Her Aunt returned the smile, before pulling her into a tight hug. "It's lovely to see you too, dear. The boys will love to have you around. They're at school right now, so you have a little while to prepare yourself for the onslaught."

Hermione chuckled. Her cousins were hyperactive. "Are you sure it's ok if I stay here?" She asked, suddenly worried she was intruding.

Her Aunt looked scandalized. "Of course, Mione! You're family! And with Robert away on business in London it gets lonely with just me and the boys. It'll be great to have another female around."

Hermione nodded. Her Uncle was often away on business. His job as a Pharmaceutical rep involved a lot of travel. Her Aunt Edith was a stay at home mother to her two young sons. Hermione, despite her love for her Aunt, felt as though she were wasting her brains. She had so much potential.

"Now, if you'd like to take your things upstairs to the spare room and wash up, we can have some tea and catch up." Edith smiled, as she headed toward the kitchen.

Hermione couldn't help but think that being with her Aunt Edith wouldn't be so bad. It was merely the fact that they small town she lived in held nothing of interest.

She took her trunk upstairs to the spare bedroom, and smiled as she noticed a freshly cut vase of flowers on the bedside table. The bathroom was down the hall, and Hermione headed there with the intention of washing some of the soot off her face.

The bathroom was a small cosy room, much like the rest of the house. It was tiled white, and sparkling clean, with a large window looking over the rolling hills, occasional rooftops, and hedge lines of the surrounding land.

Hermione scooped a handful of water up and threw it over her face, scrubbing until it ran clear, and all traces of her trip by floo were gone. As she dried her face on the hand towel, she stared out the window.

It really was a beautiful view. It was just a shame it was in the middle of nowhere. This small town, in Wiltshire, where nothing much happened at all.

Hermione didn't realise then, but this trip would be anything but boring.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**So did anyone catch the hint at the end? Does that place sound familiar? :P**

**Sorry for the long update! I say this every time, but I really do try to work on this as much as I can! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm freaking excited to write the next one. Thank you everyone for the lovely reviews and latina-pr who always gives me awesome ideas and feedback!**

**Thanks lovelies,**

**Leni**


	22. Chapter 22

_**Chapter 22**_

_...in which there are no more secrets._

* * *

><p>Lunchtime came around slowly for Blaise, as he sat tapping his quill on the desk in Potions, wishing the second hand on the wall clock would move faster than it was. He had to talk to Luna. It had been the only thing on his mind all morning since he was informed of the reason she was mad at him.<p>

She thought he'd kissed Ginny Weasley. He almost scoffed out loud. Sure, he used to think quite highly of Ginny, but since he met Luna, he had completely forgotten about the girl. Luna was the only thing on his mind, and in his heart.

Tap, tap, tap went his quill.

He heard a low growl from beside him. It was Potter.

"Would you stop that bloody tapping, mate?" The boy said, gritting his teeth, "I know you're miserable, but you're about to send _me_ insane."

"You're already insane," a smartass Weasley commented from the other side, earning a scowl from Potter.

"Hey, don't you start," Potter warned him, "this is all _your_ baby sisters' fault. Little Gin Gin's gone and caused some trouble again." He said with a chuckle. Blaise didn't find the situation particularly funny.

Weasley rolled his eyes, "What's new?"

Blaise had to agree with that. When didn't Ginny Weasley have her head in some drama?

He zoned out of Potter and Weasley's conversation and turned to his other side. Draco sat quietly beside him, his head resting on his hand, staring at the empty space at Neville Longbottom's table.

Hermione wasn't in class today. Perhaps she couldn't face the students? Or perhaps, and more likely, she couldn't face Draco.

Blaise had been annoyed with her that morning for not telling him of the issue between him and Luna, but that anger had slipped away in the past couple of hours, and due to her absence he was just as worried about her as he had been yesterday morning.

Draco looked worried, too.

"You know," Blaise began in a low whisper, "if you keep staring at the place she should be, people are going to get suspicious. Isn't that why you ended it?"

Draco's eyes darted away from her seat and down to his quill.

Blaise sighed. "Why do this to yourself if you still care, mate? It's either getting torture from others, or torture from yourself."

Blaise, despite his previous sentiments on the issue, had trouble seeing his friend so miserable. By throwing the game that day, he'd hoped to push Draco to become the man he should be. Instead, he'd pushed him to be the man he used to be. The whole thing had backfired horribly.

"Torture from myself is likely to be less painful," the blond said simply. His eyes flickered up to the table one last time before he returned to his notes. Blaise sighed.

Draco was not one of these people who could be convinced of something by other people telling him. If you told him the sky was blue, he would have to see the sky for himself to agree. This was the same. It wouldn't matter how many times Blaise, or Potter, or Weasley tried to convince him that perhaps this wasn't the right way to go, it wouldn't matter until he realised it himself.

Blaise would try to leave him; after all, he had his own problems.

The bell for lunch finally rang, and Blaise was one of the first to leave his desk. Potter and Weasley practically raced out of the room for lunch but he noticed Draco lingering around, slowly packing his things. There were still a few other students in the classroom.

"You coming, mate?" Blaise asked, turning to his friend who was still lingering around his desk.

The blond nodded. "Yea, go on. I'll catch up."

Blaise nodded slowly, before exiting the room, just in time to hear Draco call out to someone.

"Oi, Longbottom!" Draco called. Blaise paused in his steps.

There was silence, before Neville answered. "What is it, Malfoy?" The boy sounded frustrated with the blond. Blaise didn't blame him; Draco had hurt Hermione beyond repair.

Blaise was surprised when Draco merely ignored the boys tone, and jumped straight into questioning. "Where's Granger?"

Neville let out a loud sigh. "Why do you care?"

"I don't care," Draco shot back in a quick hiss, "just tell me where she is."

"She's not here," Neville replied rather vaguely.

Draco let out a frustrated growl. "I can see that, Longbottom," he snapped, "but where is she?"

There was a long moment of silence as though Neville were deciding whether or not to tell him. "She's gone away for a few days. To her Aunt's house."

Blaise furrowed his brow. Hermione wasn't even at Hogwarts?

"Why?" Draco asked. Blaise could hear the slight worry in his voice.

"She's not safe here, she's been attacked twice," there was accusation in Neville's voice; he blamed Draco, "Professor McGonagall thought it would be best if she left until things were a bit safer here. But I doubt that will happen anytime soon; everyone thinks she's a liar."

Blaise shook his head. Why was Neville goading the teen?

"That's not my fault," Draco answered in a quiet voice. Blaise nearly fell over out of surprise. He'd just let Neville talk down to him! What the hell was going on?!

"Well, it's certainly not _her_ fault," Neville informed the blond. "I know you're not standing by her because of her blood, and that's what I find so ridiculous. You're ashamed of her, but it should be the other way round. _You_ don't deserve _her_. You never did."

Blaise was shocked at Neville's courage. It seemed that when it came to Hermione, he had enough love for her to endure the worst of hexes. Surprisingly, no hex came. There was silence, before an almost inaudible voice, full of shame, spoke.

"I know."

Blaise stood there silently, staring at the opposite wall.

All this time, he'd assumed Draco was so worried about his own safety, his own reputation. That was what he'd made out to everybody. Perhaps that wasn't all it was.

He thought he didn't deserve her.

Since when had Draco become so thoughtful of others? No, wait. He wasn't thoughtful of any others, just Hermione.

He loved her. If everything hadn't been so screwed up at the moment that might have been a good thing to realise.

There was silence from the classroom, and Blaise assumed Neville was just as shocked as he was at that confession.

"Where is her Aunts place?" Draco asked after a moment. What was Draco thinking of doing? He couldn't leave the school.

"I don't know," Neville informed him, his voice still full of shock, "somewhere in the country. Hermione never said the specific place; she just said it was boring."

"How are you going to contact her if you don't know where she is?" Draco asked, his voice full of suspicion.

"I'm not supposed to contact her," Neville told him, "Professor McGonagall said the whole point in her leaving is so she can get a break from Hogwarts. She doesn't want her to worry about things here."

Blaise wondered how long Hermione would be away if that was the case. Things here would take a while to die down.

"Who attacked her?" Draco asked. There was an edge to his voice. Blaise could sense that someone was going to get a hexing.

"Pansy Parkinson, and a couple of other Slytherin girls." Neville answered, his voice full of hate, "They're going around bragging that they were going to hex her head into a pineapple." Neville's voice expressed how weird he though it all was. "Apparently, it's a popular spell in Slytherin house."

Blaise scoffed at the thought of Pansy. Yes, yes it was a popular spell. It was not uncommon to wake up to the sound of screams in the dungeons as someone realised their head was now a pineapple. He wasn't sure where that spell had originated...

"Pansy." Draco repeated, sounding as though he were already planning his revenge, "Anyone else?"

Blaise assumed Neville shook his head. "Why do you care, anyway?" he asked, his voice full of its previous accusation.

"I don't," Draco said quickly. "Now watch that attitude Longbottom, or I'll have to hex you."

Blaise heard footsteps coming toward the door, and moved to hide in one of the alcoves so he wasn't seen. Draco passed him a moment later, looking as though he had some place to be. Neville wandered past shortly after, staring at Draco as though he'd just seen a cat walk on its hind legs.

Perhaps Draco hadn't quite given up. Or maybe giving up when it came to Granger was impossible for him?

Blaise didn't know, all he knew was that he had bigger problems. He had to find Luna and make her understand that nothing had happened with him and Ginny.

He headed toward the Great Hall, his fingers unconsciously crossed in his pockets the whole way.

* * *

><p>"Mione! Mione!" her little cousin Tom called to her, "Look at this bug! Why does it look so weird?"<p>

He kneeled down and squinted at a leaf. Hermione sighed, how did Aunt Edith do this every day?

She'd agreed that morning to let her Aunt have a sleep in. She would help her cousins get dressed for school, make their lunches, and walk them to the bus stop down the road. She had struggled with the first two tasks, especially since she couldn't use magic in front of them.

Now she was walking them to the bus stop; that was harder, if possible.

"Mioneee!" Her other cousin Hugh hollered at her, sounding distressed, "I stepped in a mud puddle!"

How could two five year old twins be so hard to handle? She sighed before kneeling down, and wiping Hugh's shoe off with her handkerchief.

"All good?" She asked the boy. His curly blonde hair shook as he nodded.

Both her cousins were adorably sweet looking. Curly blonde hair, button noses, big brown eyes. It was all a ploy to trick people, because they were really actually quite evil. Ok, perhaps that was a _little_ harsh.

"Thomas!" she cried, turning to the other boy, who had picked up the offending insect, and was holding it to his mouth with a devilish grin, "_Do not_ eat that bug!"

Both boys broke out into high pitched laughter. They enjoyed giving her near heart attacks.

She grabbed them both by their hands and continued on down the road to a little bench, with a sign that read 'BUS STOP'.

Thank Merlin. There wasn't much trouble they could get into here; the bus would be here soon.

Unfortunately, she was wrong.

In the two minutes it took for the bus to arrive, Hugh had completely fallen into a mud puddle, dirtying his knees and hands, which she frantically tried wiping off. It was useless; he would be going to school looking as though he were severely neglected.

Thomas had grabbed a stick off the ground and was running around using it as a sword, roaring nonsensical threats to mythical creatures as he did. Mythical creatures Hermione had met firsthand in Care of Magical Creatures, and knew couldn't be taken down with a mere stick.

She managed to wrangle the stick away from him after a few moments, and dragged him to the bench, where Hugh sat, surprisingly calm, whistling a tune from his favourite TV show. Hermione nearly kissed the bus driver as he arrived a moment later.

She put them on the bus, apologising profusely and rather uselessly about their appearances, before waving at them through the window. She frowned as she saw Hugh tug on the hair of the girl in the seat in front on him.

Perhaps he liked the girl? That thought depressed her, because it reminded her of the immature git, Draco. While he never tugged on her hair, he did hex her constantly.

As the bus disappeared in the distance, she sat on the bench catching her breath. She was completely exhausted already. Had she always been this unfit?

Perhaps she could use the spare time she would have here to get back into shape...

She stood a moment later, and decided to jog back to the house where she would begin making breakfast for her Aunt, who she now realised had the toughest job in the world.

She was pleased with her effort of making breakfast; despite the fact she did cheat a few times and used a few spells she'd learnt in 'Tips for the Homely Witch'. By the time her Aunt awoke from her well-deserved sleep in, the table was filled with bacon, sausages, toast, fruit, and cereal.

"Wow, Mione!" Aunt Edith exclaimed as she wandered into the room, dressed for the day. "You've really outdone yourself, sweetie, this looks great!"

Hermione beamed, it was nothing like the breakfasts they served at Hogwarts, but it was still a rather good effort.

"I did cheat a little," she admitted sheepishly, tapping her back pocket where her wand sat.

Her Aunt merely laughed, reaching for the bacon, "I would cheat too, my dear, _everyday_ if I could."

Hermione laughed. Who wouldn't be tempted to use magic to control those two little devil's she called her cousins?

They sat down to breakfast and Hermione vowed that after this big buffet, she'd go for a walk and work some of it off. After all, even she had to admit that the views around here were amazing.

"So do you still have a boyfriend, sweetie?" her Aunt asked conversationally as she dug into her breakfast. Hermione froze.

"I never had a boyfriend," she said quickly. She didn't want to talk about Draco; she was just starting to feel better.

"Really?" her Aunt questioned, looking puzzled, "What about that boy who sent you that fancy Christmas present?"

Hermione swallowed thickly, the chain around her neck felt heavy. She'd forgotten that she never took it off. Even so, she was too scared to put it to her ear now, not after everything...

"No," Hermione shook her head, "that was nothing." She pushed a sausage around her plate. Her Aunt sat staring at her with concern.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Edith asked in a gentle voice, "I know you're having some trouble at school, if you want to talk, I'm here to listen."

Hermione shook her head. She didn't particularly feel like discussing all that, at least not yet.

"Thanks, but everything's fine," she gave an unconvincing smile, but was pleased when her Aunt didn't push her further. She liked that about Aunt Edith; she could listen, but she also knew when someone merely needed the presence of a friend.

They finished their breakfast, turning the topics to much lighter subjects. Apparently just yesterday, Hugh had chased the neighbour's sheep around, barking like a sheep dog. The neighbour was not too pleased about that.

By the time they had cleaned up, both were in tears of mirth about stories from her two young cousins.

"They are a lot of trouble, but they're lovely boys," her Aunt said with a loving smile.

Hermione laughed, "Yes, they really are something special."

Her Aunt beamed at the compliment.

"So what are you planning to do with the day, Mione?" Edith asked her after they were seated back at the table. "I've got some baking to do for the local shop, but I'm sure you'll want to go have a look around."

Hermione nodded, "I was thinking about taking Fungus for a walk, then I might wait for the boys' bus."

Fungus was the families pet Scottish Deerhound, who had unfortunately been named by the twins. He was currently curled up in his basket licking his lips, having been fed a large portion of bacon and sausages from breakfast.

"Oh, Mione," her Aunt chided rather lovingly, "you don't have to help out so much. You're here to relax!"

"I know, but I want to help. Plus, you'll get things done quicker if I help out."

Her Aunt reluctantly agreed. "Ok...but if the boys are too much trouble, let me know."

"I will," Hermione promised. She headed toward the door, calling Fungus along behind her. The dog ran to the door rather enthusiastically. She put his leash on and ventured outside.

The weather outside was eerily overcast, with a light breeze. The silence was almost hypnotising. The moisture in the air and ground left the surrounding land a healthy green, and the trees full of life.

Hermione couldn't help but feel that she had escaped into a classical novel as she strolled along the small streets, whose houses looked as though they had passed their prime one hundred or so years ago.

Fungus trotted beside her, stopping occasionally to sniff and mark his territory on a tree. It was a peaceful place. Nothing like what you'd find in Hogwarts, but Hermione found that now she were older, the place was less boring, and far more idyllic.

She quickened her pace to a jog, Fungus' long legs kept up easily. She stopped every now and then to take in the view, and rest her heavy lungs.

By lunchtime, she had reached a deserted area a few kilometres from town. There was a large hedge, and a laneway running up beside it. She followed the path up until she came to a small, rusted metal fence. She stopped and peered over, gasping at the sight.

There was a large manor behind the tall hedge; it was at least three stories high, made of dark cobblestone. It gave Hermione an eerie feeling, and a shiver ran down her spine. The windows were all covered over with dark curtains, and the gardens at the front were decorated around the house, until a point where it stretched out into green lawn all the way down to the fence line.

She heard Fungus growl from beside her; he was obviously sensing something bad too. The feeling kept growing on her, until eventually, she couldn't take it, and as she turned, she bolted back the way she had came, feeling unsafe until she had reached the first house on the outskirts of town.

She turned back only to see the hedge in the distance, completely obscuring the house. She didn't know who lived there, and she didn't want to find out.

She wondered idly if the townspeople ever ventured up there, or if they got the same horrible feeling from the large manor. All Hermione knew was that she didn't want to go anywhere near that place again.

* * *

><p>Blaise tapped his foot nervously on the stone floor in the Entrance hall, as he tried to spot a head of blonde hair within the crowd that was pushing into the hall for lunch.<p>

He spotted her, walking towards the door clutching a handful of books. A girl pushed past her a moment later, hitting her hard by the shoulder and sending her and the books scattering to the floor. No one stopped to help, as Blaise raced forward and kneeled down in front of her.

"Are you ok?" he asked her, as he piled her books up. She didn't look up at him, but he heard her sniffle. He froze.

She was crying.

"Luna," he began, lifting her chin as the people around them disappeared into the hall and they were left alone, "are you ok? Are you hurt?"

He began to look over her, to see if he could spot any injuries. He couldn't find any that were the cause of her tears. He looked behind him at the closed doors of the Great Hall.

"Who was that girl?" he questioned, not liking her lack of response, "Did she say something? Do something?"

He turned back to find her staring at him, her expression one of disappointment. "Have you really loved her the whole time?"

Blaise furrowed his brow. "Who? What are you talking about, Luna?"

She sniffled. "My roommate, Magda Jones, she was taking a shortcut to our Charms class yesterday. She saw you and Ginny. She said you were kissing."

Blaise's eyes widened. "What?" he shouted, "Luna, that's not true! I mean, it is. I was there. But we weren't kissing!"

"It doesn't matter, I suppose."

Blaise was confused by her odd response, but continued in his explanation.

"I was talking to her. I thought she'd said something to make you hate me," he explained hastily; he just wanted her to understand, "That night in the hospital wing, it's not what-,"

"So you did kiss her?" She asked, her shoulders deflating. Blaise realised she must have held hope that it wasn't true.

"She kissed me!" he said quickly, "I wasn't even awake at the time!" He needed her to believe him.

She sniffled again, before wiping a tear off her cheek. "Why was she even visiting you, Blaise? Why did she feel like she should? Why did she feel like she could kiss you?"

He faltered. Those were questions he couldn't answer. "I...I don't know." He muttered, quite weakly.

Luna was quiet for a moment; her eyes were on Blaise's hand which had gripped her own. Blaise followed her gaze. Her small, pale hand was being gripped by his large, warm olive hand. He was holding on so tightly, that her fingers were turning pink. He couldn't let go.

"She loves you-,"

"No, she doesn't," he interrupted quickly. He didn't even want her to go there. He didn't care what Ginny felt. It only mattered to him if it was going to change something between him and Luna.

"She used to say it to me all the time," Luna continued, as though she didn't hear him, "That _you _loved _her._ She always seemed quite happy about it. I guess it's nice to know that someone loves you. Why wouldn't it be?"

Blaise nodded quickly. Where was she going with this?

"I didn't know you then, so I just assumed you were like all the other boys that liked her. The one's that would leave her anonymous love letters and stare at her during class. She didn't respect them, she told me once, because she believed if you really liked someone, you would fight for them, not just sit around hoping for a chance." She smiled, though it was rather sad-looking.

"Luna, why are you telling me all this?" Blaise asked, agitated and confused. "I just want to talk about _us._ I don't care about what Ginny once said about me-,"

"It matter's Blaise," Luna interrupted, her voice strong, "Just let me finish."

Blaise looked around the empty entrance hall. He could hear the students inside the great hall, chatting as they ate lunch. Blaise's appetite wasn't there, the longer Luna kept him waiting, the more worried he got.

"Ok," he agreed, though he really just wanted to demand that she tell him whether he was forgiven.

"She chased Draco for so long, convinced that he was the one for her, all because he wouldn't look at her twice. She thought she could break him; and she did. But afterward, she realised the mistake. She chose the wrong person. She didn't know how I felt about you then. I guess she thought, like everyone else, that no one would want to be with me."

Blaise moved forward to comfort her, but she held up her hand stopping him. She wasn't upset about her previous words; it had become something she'd accepted long ago. She wasn't a popular choice as a friend or lover.

"She told me that her dating Draco had changed your feelings, that you'd stopped caring. She pretended she didn't know how you felt about her all that time, but she did. She just wasn't ready to be with you."

Luna gave him a small smile. "When I began liking you, I asked her if it would be ok, if she would care if I told you. If I tried to be with you. She said she didn't; but I knew deep down she was regretting her fling with Draco, regretting ever introducing me to you. In her eyes, you were hers."

Blaise scowled at the thought of Ginny. "I was never hers!" He insisted, rather loudly.

Luna sighed quietly. "I know. But my point is, in her mind you always have been the boy who she would love her from afar, until the day she decided she wanted to be with you. I ruined that for her, because I took you away."

"You didn't take anything, Luna," Blaise assured her strongly, "I fell for you."

"I can't even be mad at either of you," Luna admitted softly, "because I'm just angry at myself. I got in the way."

Blaise couldn't believe the conclusion she'd come to. "What? Luna, you didn't get in the way of anything! I didn't know what love was until I met _you_."

"You'd probably be together now..." she muttered, as though she didn't hear a word he'd said.

"Luna," he grabbed her shoulders and made her look at him, "I love you. Don't feel guilty for getting in the way of something that has never there-,"

"I think you should be with her," she interrupted in a small whisper, but it spoke loud and strong enough to silence Blaise's words. He was speechless. Why would Luna want him to do that?

She couldn't possibly be serious. She had to be joking. He forced himself to laugh, anything to dislodge the lump in his throat. Anything to break the silence that was beginning to constrict him.

"Don't even joke about that, you know I love you." He said, hoping she would break out into a grin and announce that she'd really fooled him that time.

She didn't though, she stayed staring at him, her eyes filled with hopelessness.

"I'm not joking, Blaise," She told him remorsefully, "How can you know you don't like something unless you've had it?"

"Quite easily, Luna," he shot back struggling not to lose his patience, "I know Ginny is a manipulative, evil little bitch. I don't want her. I want _you_."

"She's not that bad, Blaise," Luna informed him, "She was my friend when no one else was. I knew she wanted you, but I still let my feelings control me. I gave into what I wanted, without thinking of my loyalty to her."

"Loyalty? To Ginny?" Blaise shot back, rather loudly, "When has she ever shown loyalty to _you_, Luna? She probably just saw a friendship with you as a convenience in the future. And look at this?" he motioned between them, "She's probably laughing at the fact she can manipulate you so well! Stop being so damn selfless, Luna! Get your head out of the clouds!"

His breathing was rapid as he finished his rant. He hadn't meant to yell, but he had. Luna sat staring at her hands.

"She's important to me, Blaise." Luna implored, her voice watery, "I'm not like you. I'm not popular; I don't have many people on my side. Being here was hell before Ginny came along. I can't lose her friendship."

"She doesn't deserve yours." He spat viciously, his misguided anger aimed at Ginny, "Don't let her fool you, Luna."

"She's not fooling me," she assured him, "but I can't be with you, knowing that I might be keeping you from hat you really want. She was your first love, wasn't she?"

He looked at her bemusedly. Did she honestly think any of this conversation interested him? He didn't want to talk about Ginny! And he certainly didn't want to be with her either.

"So what?" he asked. "That doesn't mean anything! It just means I hadn't met you yet!"

"It just means you gave up on her."

He laughed out loud. "Forget this, Luna. You can tell me this all you want, but I'm not going to be with her. That's it."

Luna stared at him. "I think you fight it so much, that there has to be. You say you hate her, but to hate someone, you have to feel strongly about them in the first place."

Blaise was taken back to a conversation he'd had with Ginny, in the library, before his feelings had changed.

'There's a fine line between love and hate,' she'd said. He'd believed her then, because it fit with everything that was happening with Draco.

But he refused to believe that now.

"Not everything is a puzzle," he explained, "Some people hate because they really hate, not because they're hiding something."

She was silent for a moment, and Blaise knew Luna's eccentrically lead mind was not finished yet.

"I can't be with you until I'm sure that's all it is," she told him. She sounded as though the words were hard to say. As though they pained her.

Blaise didn't care, because the moment she spoke them, something stabbed through him like a red hot knife.

"You should see if you two are really so mismatched," she said, sniffling afterward.

Blaise's eyes were prickling, but he didn't want to let his emotions run free. He didn't want Luna to see him so weak.

"Luna, please, why are you doing this?" he pleaded, putting his whole heart into his words.

The thought of not being Luna was something he couldn't fathom. She had become the main aspect of his life. The guiding light in the middle of a snow storm that would let you know you were home. He had lived life before Luna, and been quite happy. But living, and having never had something is easier than having it, and losing it.

"Because I love you, Blaise. And I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me...and because I love Ginny, too. She's my friend. I just want you both to be happy."

Blaise shook his head, running his hand through his hair. "Luna, Ginny doesn't want me. We don't want to be together! She's over her little obsession! Just-just don't ruin this..." he motioned between them.

Luna let out a long breath. "She will want this, Blaise."

He frowned. Ginny had told him that morning she had no interest in him. "Why would you think that?"

Luna packed up her books in her arms. "Because she's the one that asked me to. She told me that you two had unfinished business. It's true. If you don't have feelings, then let it be. If you do, then...well..." She finished looking as though she didn't want to comprehend it.

"Why would you agree to that, Luna?" Blaise questioned angrily, "Why?"

"Because when I first told her my feelings for you, I saw in her eyes that it bothered her, but she still said it didn't. And I let myself believe that, even though I could see it wasn't true. That's why. She gave me the chance to be with you when she could've said no. She should have. It should have always been you and her."

She stood from their spot on the ground, and began pushing open the door to the great hall. Blaise shot to his feet and grabbed her arm.

He pulled her toward him and pressed his lips firmly against hers. He pulled away a moment later, and eyed her with a raised brow. Her cheeks were pink and she looked flustered. How could she say he didn't want her? He didn't want to induce any such feelings for anyone else.

She smiled at him, and his heart flew. Maybe she was changing her mind...?

"That was a nice goodbye, Blaise," she said softly, before entering the great hall.

He was left standing there, staring at the dark wood of the doors. He was suddenly angry. He raised his fist and slammed it against the doors, hearing the resounding crack of his hand breaking. The door didn't budge once, much like Luna's decision to leave him.

He strolled away a moment later to get his hand fixed by the nurse. If only other things were so easily fixed.

* * *

><p>By a quarter to 3, Hermione had exhausted herself with exploring the town and surrounding land. She had to admit that it was a nice place, despite the small population.<p>

She pulled Fungus away from a tree he was sniffing, and began to make her way to the bus stop where she would meet Thomas and Hugh. She dreaded the walk back to the house with them. Hopefully they didn't get into too much trouble this time.

The bus rolled up at five past 3, and her two cousins jumped off, waving goodbyes to their friends.

"I hope you two didn't cause too much trouble," she said with a smile as she grabbed both their hands. Hugh began laughing. Hermione looked between them both curiously. Thomas didn't look happy.

"Thomas has girl cooties!" Hugh announced, grinning broadly.

"Girl cooties?" Hermione questioned, looking at Tom, who was looking genuinely concerned.

"Greta Marcum kissed him on the cheek! It was gross!" Hugh cried, pulling a face. Tom nodded in agreement.

Hermione shook her head smiling. How simple it was to be a kid.

"Don't worry, Tom," she said in a comforting voice, "I know for a fact that if you wash your face, the cooties will be cleaned off."

Tom looked much more relieved at this news.

They had just made it into their street, hen Hermione spotted a girl about her age walking toward them. When Tom and Hugh spotted her, they cried out loudly, running toward her. Fungus was far too preoccupied with marking a lamp post.

"Emily!" The two boys cried, running towards her. Hermione walked behind them, tugging Fungus along.

"Hello Hugh, Tom," She greeted with a large smile, kneeling down to their small height. "Let me guess, you want to know if I have any lollies?"

Both boys nodded vigorously. The girl reached into the pocket of her school jacket, before noticing Hermione standing a few feet away.

"Oh, hello," the girl greeted with a smile, "I'm Emily."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Hugh interrupted. "This is our cousin, Mione! She's come to live with us!"

The girl, Emily, looked surprised.

"I'm just staying for a few days," Hermione clarified. Hugh made a sulky noise.

"Oh, that's great," Emily commented, "My father owns the corner shop that Edith bakes for. Hugh and Tom are constantly hassling me for lollies. They know I've got a good supplier." She winked, and Hermione laughed as the blonde girl handed the twins a lolly each.

"You know, if you'd like someone to show you around, or even just some company, I'd be happy to volunteer," Emily offered with a genuine smile, "It's difficult to find things to do around here."

In Hermione's current mood, she was surprised when she found herself nodding. She liked the girl already.

"Great!" Emily said brightly, "My house is just on the outskirts of town. It doesn't get dark here for a while, if you like we could take my horses out for a ride."

Hermione nodded again. That sounded like fun; she'd never ridden a horse before. She usually just, very occasionally, rode broomsticks. "That sounds great."

"Can we come?" the twins interjected in a desperate cry, "Please?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's too unsafe. Your mum would never say yes."

"That's true," Emily agreed, "maybe when you get a little older."

The boys brightened up a little at that.

"Anyway, Mione," Emily began, using Hermione's nickname, "I know where your Aunt lives. I'll come get you soon."

"Ok, I'll see you then," Hermione said, smiling as the girl walked past.

It would be nice to have a friend that didn't know about magic. Something to keep her mind off of Hogwarts, and him...

She shook her head, before continuing on home. Hugh and Thomas grabbed Fungus' leash and began to run with him, leaving Hermione behind with nothing but her miserable thoughts of Draco. She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing.

* * *

><p>Blaise was not in the mood for this. He had bigger problems than Draco being in detention after today's lessons. He had to find Ginny, and hex her freckly little nose off.<p>

"A pineapple, mate? Really? Blaise questioned, unimpressed. Draco shrugged.

"You know that muggle saying, 'fight fire with fire', I don't really understand how that works," he made a confused face, "but I figured I'd try it. Except, I merely fought pineapples with pineapples."

Blaise sighed. "Pansy will probably be blubbering about this for days now. The house common room is going to hate you. And besides, why are you avenging Hermione if you don't care?" he raised an eyebrow at the blond, who had suddenly become very interested in his quill.

"I don't care..." he muttered, before throwing the quill across the room. "Ok, fine! I do! It would be a lot easier not to if I knew where she was and if she was safe."

Blaise nodded. "I understand that, mate. It's not easy to switch your feelings off. But I'm sure wherever Hermione is, she's safer then she would be here."

Draco sighed, his shoulders slouching. "I guess you're right...Um, would you mind passing me my quill? McGonagall spelled my ass to the chair until I finish these lines."

Blaise broke out into a chuckle for the first time that day. "You're a fucking idiot." He said as he threw the quill back at Draco.

He left Draco for his afternoon detention, and instead set out to find the bane of his existence. The girl who had effectively managed to guilt and manipulate a rather gullible Luna into ending their relationship.

The blood was running hot through his veins at the thought of the red head. He was furious, and upset. A horrible combination for a Slytherin.

After searching the corridors and asking around for half an hour, he was surprised when he was directed to the library. Not a common place the red head would choose to spend her afternoon, but as he walked in and spotted her hunched over a parchment, scribbling away, he was glad he'd checked there anyway.

He walked over silently, standing behind her and looking over her shoulder. She was working on a Transfiguration essay. Blaise was tempted to grab the parchment and rip it in two, but he resisted. Instead he put his hand on the back of her chair and pulled.

The chair came clean from beneath her, and with a loud yelp, she fell on the floor. She turned around quickly to see the culprit; something in her eyes changed when she saw who it was.

"Blaise," she said rather dazedly, "What are you doing?"

He let the chair go, and moved to stand over her, "Just came to say hello."

She eyed him as though he were mad, as she stood up. "Is that your idea of a funny joke?" She asked, suddenly grinning, "I could quite easily get you back, if you want to start with me, that is."

She smiled at him flirtatiously. He felt his anger rise again.

"Is that how you do it?" he said pointing at her. Her smile was replaced with an expression of confusion, "Manipulate people, I mean. Do you just give them one of your fake little smiles? Make them think they're special? You're a pathetic bitch."

He was surprised at the bitterness in his tone. Ginny stood silently, staring at him in shock.

"You're upset," she noted, rather stupidly.

He scoffed. "Of course I am! You're the reason, too!"

She swallowed. "So you spoke to Luna then," She concluded, then gave a short laugh, "she's a good friend. Fair. I certainly didn't think she would care so much about my feelings-,"

"Fuck your feelings!" Blaise growled, pushing her back against the book shelf. They both sent books flying, as they toppled to the ground. He didn't even notice that he was on top of her, he was far too angry, his hands gripping her arms tightly.

"You're hurting me, Blaise," she ground out between her teeth. He softened his grip only a little; he didn't want to bruise her.

"What about my feelings, Ginny?" he continued. "What about Luna's? I don't care about you! I fucking hate you, you bitch."

He was incredibly disappointed in himself when a tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly.

"I love you, Blaise. I have for years. I think you love me too..." She said, as though she hoped he would agree. He laughed, a loud, condescending sound.

"You really think I could love someone as pathetic as you?"

"You used to," she interjected quickly, as though that changed everything.

"Used to, Ginny. Past tense. That was before I found out what you're really like. You're pathetic."

"So you've said!" She growled angrily, ripping his arm off her own. "Is that all you think of me?"

He nodded simply. "Yep."

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't believe you."

He didn't even have time to react as she flipped them over, and she straddled him. He tried to push her off, but found that she was rather secure.

"Never mess with a girl who plays Quidditch, Blaise," she said simply, placing her hand either side of his head. "Now tell me the truth. You can't just keep pretending you hate me. I know you don't. Luna merely distracted you from that; I think even she knows that."

Blaise scowled at her. "How can you even call yourself her friend?" he spat, "You're manipulating her to get what you want, even if it makes her unhappy."

He could see by her expression that he'd hit a sensitive spot. "I care about Luna, Blaise. But I want what I want, and that just happens to be you. I'm the youngest of six brothers, I'm spoilt rotten! Everyone always does what I say, and I always get what I want. Do you expect me to try and be selfless now? I will when it doesn't get in the way of you and I."

"There is no you and I, you idiot," he said, pushing her off him, and rather struggling and she held tight, "There is nothing between us, Ginny. I love Luna. Now go tell her you change your mind, otherwise you will wish you never messed with me."

Ginny smiled coyly. "I think I'd rather like messing with you," she commented. Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Get. Off. Me," he ordered, punctuating each word.

Ginny sighed, before standing. He shot to his feet, brushing his shirt off. "Now are you going to do what I say?" he asked, giving her one last chance.

She looked thoughtful. "That depends...are you going to do what _I_ say?"

He closed his eyes, and let out a breath. Just relax, Blaise. "That's it, Weasley. I gave you a chance, you didn't take it. Until I'm back with Luna, you're going to be a target."

Ginny scoffed at the threat, crossing her arms. "You think my brother would let you torture me?"

Blaise shook his head. "He doesn't have to know, but I'm sure Draco would be too happy to help."

He saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. "Draco's too preoccupied being an ass, isn't he?"

Blaise gave her a plastered on smile. "Be ready for it, Weasley."

He left her in the library, looking rather hesitant about what exactly she should be ready for. That would teach her a lesson for being a lying, manipulative wench.

* * *

><p>Hermione yelped as her horse, Rocket, sped up. Emily laughed, as she looked back at the frightened expression on Hermione's face.<p>

"Just relax, Mione," the girl laughed as she sped up herself, "Rocket's a good horse. I've had him since I was ten."

Hermione tried to relax, but her posture was still rigid. They'd only been riding for twenty minutes, after a quick lesson from Emily. Hermione still didn't feel that confident on the unpredictable animal. She was merely glad she'd put a slight cushioning charm on the saddle before she'd hopped on.

"It must be nice," Hermione began, looking around at the green surrounds, "having the opportunity to ride horses and just explore this place. It must have been a great place to grow up."

Emily laughed graciously. "You wouldn't appreciate it if you lived here; it seems every day I wish I lived somewhere more interesting."

Hermione nodded. She could understand that; she'd shared similar sentiments when she'd visited here years ago.

"So what's it like where you live?" Emily asked suddenly, slowing her horse down and allowing Hermione to catch up to her.

"Oh," Hermione began, caught off guard, "well, my parents live in London. But I'm not there much. I go to a boarding school, so I'm away for most of the year."

She hoped that her explanation was informative enough for the girl to stop asking questions.

"A boarding school?" The girl looked interested. "I don't think I'd like that. I'd miss my parents too much."

Hermione frowned. "Yes, it's hard sometimes, not having anyone to lean on."

She swallowed thickly, remembering her recent trouble at school. She'd felt relatively alone. It was funny how being away from Hogwarts felt as though all that didn't exist anymore. That he didn't exist anymore.

She felt her throat tighten at the thought, and cleared it. "So do you ride much?"

Emily nodded. "I've been riding for a while, but I was only ever allowed to ride out here when I was older. Sometimes I snuck out on my bike though." She gave a cheeky wink, and Hermione smiled.

They rode along for a few more minutes in silence, until they came to a familiar lane running parallel to a tall hedge. Hermione pulled on the horses' reigns a little too hard, and it stopped abruptly, skidding on the gravel beneath.

Emily stopped and turned to look at her.

"Is everything ok?"She asked, looking concerned, "Did Rocket get startled by something?"

Hermione could only focus on the horrible eerie feeling and goose bumps running over her, as she shook her head.

"No...no, he's fine. Do we have to go down here?" She asked, motioning to the lane. Emily looked toward the lane then back at Hermione.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

Hermione hesitated.

"I...just get a bad feeling from it."

Emily stared at her for a moment, and Hermione could see understanding in her eyes. She wondered what that was about.

"Funny. I get an odd feeling too. But this lane holds a lot of importance to me. Let's just say, it makes me think that there might be more in the world then we know." She shook her head, at Hermione's wide eyed expression. "I know; I sound insane. You probably wouldn't understand."

Hermione wondered for a moment what Emily could mean by that. The girl was eyeing the lane with a longing expression, and Hermione let out a sigh.

"We'll go down there then," she conceded, "I'm just being ridiculous."

The girl smiled. "It's really is nice; I'm sure you'll like it once you see it."

Hermione didn't bother to tell the girl she'd already been there and instead steered Rocket down toward the hedge.

As they reached the rusted gate, Hermione's feelings of unease increased. She didn't understand what it was, but she assumed it was that eerie manor. Whoever lived there was bad news.

Emily stopped at the gate, and stared at the field that the manor sat in. Hermione wondered if she knew the people inside.

"Who lives there?" Hermione said, nodding toward the house, "Do you know them?"

Emily's head snapped quickly toward Hermione, and she stared at her with wide eyes. Hermione swallowed nervously. Had she said something wrong?

"Uh, Emily? Is everything...ok?" Hermione was concerned for the girl; she looked as though she'd lapsed into a moment of insanity.

"What do you see?" The girl urged. "Tell me what you see!"

Hermione eyed the manor again, before looking back at Emily. "I see...a big house?"

She couldn't help but feel lost. Was this some sort of test?

Emily let out a gasp, and stared back at the field. After a moment she turned back to Hermione.

"Emily," Hermione urged, "are you ok?"

She wondered if perhaps the girl was lying about not feeling the eerie feeling Hermione did near the large house. She certainly looked uncomfortable.

The girl didn't answer, and Hermione's concern only increased.

"Do you want to-,"

"Muggles can't see it." Emily whispered quietly, but it effectively silenced Hermione.

She stared at the blonde girl for a moment; she must have misheard. Emily would know what a muggle was...

"What did you say?" Hermione questioned, suddenly feeling on edge.

Emily turned to look at her, her expression one of shock and confusion. "Muggles...can't see it."

"Muggles?" Hermione questioned, feigning ignorance while inwardly panicking. How did she know what a muggle was?

"People who aren't...magic."

Hermione swallowed thickly. "And?"

"You can see it." Emily stated plainly.

"So?" Hermione shot back, feeling cornered.

The girl was quiet for a moment, before she spoke. "What does that make you?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but wasn't sure what to say. "I'm a...person. Is it such a big deal that I can see a house? Lots of people see them; there's a whole town full of them over there." She chuckled nervously, hoping to break the tension.

"I can't see it, Hermione." Emily informed her. "I've come here every day since I was young, just to see if I could see it. I never have. Those boys...they could."

Hermione furrowed her brow. Boys? Were their wizards who lived around here? Maybe that explained why only she felt that horrible feeling near the house.

Hermione didn't speak. She didn't know what to say. Whatever she said would surely only get her in a deeper mess. Instead she waited for Emily to speak.

"Are you like those boys?" The girl asked after a moment.

"I don't know them," Hermione replied.

"They talked about magic, and muggles, they told me I couldn't see their house because it's invisible to muggles. But you can see it...which means you're like them." She accused.

Hermione regretted ever mentioning the house, as Emily's looked at her with mistrust. What could she say? 'Yes, I'm a witch'? No, Hermione couldn't admit that; it would make her stay here a lot harder.

Hermione hated what she was about to do, but she had no choice.

"I 'm sorry, Emily, but I should go." She climbed off Rocket, and her feet hit the ground below, "It was nice to meet you, but I don't think we should talk again."

Emily looked alarmed. "Why not? Just tell me the truth, Mione."

Hermione hesitated. She wanted to be truthful with Emily, but it was just too much of a risk. Not even her whole family knew what she could do.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, before turning and walking quickly back the way they'd come, leaving Emily staring after her with a determined expression.

* * *

><p>"So Ginny's managed to guilt Luna into dumping you," Draco summarised, looking barely interested. "It's kind of Luna's fault for being so gullible and weak."<p>

Blaise glared at him, causing Draco to shrug.

"It's true mate," Draco continued, "I mean, I hate Ginny, but she's really fighting for you, isn't she? What has Luna done? She's given up."

Blaise raised a brow.

"So you're saying you have to fight for someone to deserve them? That means you don't deserve Hermione."

Draco frowned and looked away.

The library was relatively empty that night, and due to a Transfiguration essay, both boys were spending their night there working on the 3 foot parchment. Blaise had explained to Draco the events of that day, and couldn't help but be annoyed that his friend wasn't taking it more seriously.

He was still preoccupied with other thoughts.

"So, anyway," Blaise began, diverting the conversation away from Draco's thoughts, "I told Ginny if she doesn't make things right with Luna, then I'm going to make her life hell. Which means _we're_ going to make her life hell."

Draco sighed, crossing his arms on the desk in front of him. "Really? You wanna go back to that? I thought we grew up a bit since then."

Blaise stared wide eyed at his friend. "You're saying, that now, you wouldn't dunk Ginny in the prefects bathroom as a little revenge?"

Draco shrugged again. "I dunno..."

"Is it because of Hermione?"

Draco didn't say anything, but looked down at his clasped fingers.

"I'll take that as a yes," Blaise commented.

The blond sighed. "I can't go back to how I was before. If I did...she'd hate me more than she already does."

Blaise patted his friend on the shoulder. "I don't think she hates you mate, she's just disappointed. I guess her expectations were a little different to reality. I think she'll understand eventually."

Draco shook his head. "She won't."

"You don't know that," Blaise told him, "This time away might be good for her."

"She won't forgive me, Zabini," Draco said quickly, as though he were trying to convince himself not to get his hopes up, "but I'd still prefer she didn't hate me, which is why I'm not starting war against Ginny Weasley."

Blaise sighed. He could understand where Draco was coming from, and he knew he shouldn't encourage his friend to act out the way he used to, but the temptation to get revenge on Ginny was just too much.

"Come on, mate," Blaise whined, "You of all people should want to get Ginny Weasley. She almost cost you your chance with Hermione. She's cost me my chance with Luna. As my mate, I'm asking you to help me out. Come _on_."

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment, before sighing loudly. "Fine. I'll help you, but I stick by what I said, none of this wouldn't be happening if Luna weren't so weak."

"I know," Blaise conceded reluctantly, "but it's Luna we're talking about. She's fair, and generous, and she thinks things happen for a reason."

"She's got her head in the clouds, where it's prancing around with unicorns and those bloody Nargle things she's always on about," Draco scoffed.

Blaise nodded. He loved Luna like there was nothing else, but he couldn't help but feel bitter that she hadn't tried to fight for their relationship; that she'd just given it up because of Ginny's guilt trip. He couldn't help but doubt that she cared for him as much as he cared for her.

But maybe, just maybe, Luna was right and everything happened for a reason. Maybe these things didn't happen without a few detours along the way.

"Maybe Luna's the one you should be focusing on?" Draco suggested, "I mean, I never saw the attraction to her, but if you like her that much, forget Ginny, and focus on her."

Blaise thought for a moment. If that idea would actually work, he might try it. However, he knew how highly Luna valued her 'friendship' with Ginny, and she would likely not do anything she thought would betray the red-heads wishes. And that only left one option; getting Ginny to fix it.

"No," Blaise decided, "it's got to be Ginny who tells her. And the only way she'll do that is if we make her."

Draco nodded. "Well, Ginny's pretty determined. That might take a while."

"I don't care," Blaise said quickly, "as long as it happens at some point."

Draco shrugged, looking unenthusiastic about the whole drama. "If you think she's worth it; I'll be here to help."

Blaise grinned. "Good, because we're going to pay her a visit tonight."

Draco raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything more. Blaise was certain that despite his protests, he was keen to get a little bit of personal revenge on Ginny Weasley.

* * *

><p>That night after dinner, the two boys followed Ginny as she made her way back up to Gryffindor tower with a group of friends. In order to get her alone, Blaise reluctantly stepped forward, causing the group to stop, and a round of whispers and giggles to start.<p>

It seemed the whole school thought there was some illicit love affair going on between him and Ginny. He wanted to scoff at the thought.

"Ginny, can I speak to you?" he asked, trying to control the hatred that wanted to fill his voice as he spoke her wretched name. The girl smiled coyly and nodded, before waving off her friends, who left in an array of rude comments about what exactly the pair would be doing alone.

Unfortunately for Ginny, they were less alone then she expected, and as they rounded that led to the fifth floor corridor, Ginny stopped abruptly when she spotted the scowling face and tense stance of Draco, leaning against the stone wall. Blaise was certain he heard her give a nervous swallow.

Blaise gripped her arm and pulled her forward toward his friend, who he had to admit, was doing a great job at looking dangerous and intimidating, despite his lack of practice lately.

"I thought you wanted to speak alone, Blaise," Ginny said, her wide eyes not leaving Draco, "This doesn't look very alone to me."

Draco smirked at her comment. "I just wanted to crash the party, Weaslette. Hope you don't mind."

Ginny pulled her arm free of Blaise's grip and rubbed it. He felt a slight twinge of guilt that he'd hurt her, but pushed it down and tried to focus on how much hurt she'd caused him.

"Shouldn't you be off somewhere mourning the fact that Hermione realised you're an idiot who's not worth her time?" Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow. Blaise glanced at Draco and saw his jaw twitch at Ginny's snide remark.

"Your mouth isn't connected to your brain, is it Weasley? You're like your brother, except I can put up with him. You on the other hand..."

Ginny scoffed, and rolled her eyes. "You think my brother will let you hurt me? You think I won't tell Hermione when she gets back? You lay a finger on me, and I will ruin any chance of you ever getting her back.

Blaise saw Draco's hesitation, before the boy flicked his wand, and Ginny was pulled into the air, hanging by her left ankle.

"Good think I won't be laying a finger on you then, isn't it?"

Ginny let out a string of curses, her face red from anger and the increased blood flow. "You really need some new tactics. This is getting old!"

"Works well though," Blaise informed her. "Now this will happen to you multiple times a day, every day, until you tell Luna you don't want to be with me."

"But I do, Blaise, and Luna will know it." Ginny shot back, "Besides, she mustn't like you that much if she gave you up so easily."

Blaise grit his teeth. He wished people would stop pointing that out. "Luna's not like you Ginny; she'd sacrifice her own happiness if she thought it'd make me happy. That's what proves she cares about me. You, on the other hand, are a selfish bitch."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him from her place upside down. "It's funny how all you ever do is call me a bitch, pathetic, and selfish. I think you're in denial. Malfoy and Hermione didn't have the best start, but they fell in love, didn't they?"

"Don't talk about Hermione and I like you know anything," Draco growled, despite the truth of it.

"That's completely different," Blaise scoffed. "I'm in love with someone else, and I hate to tell you Ginny, but you're a lot less loveable then Hermione."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "I doubt you'd say otherwise, because you're so determined to stay loyal to Luna, who I hate to tell _you_, Blaise, was far too easy to convince when I told her to give you up."

Blaise glanced at Draco, and gave him a nod. The blond waved his wand and Ginny yelped when she began moving down the corridor, still hanging upside down from her invisible rope.

They reached the doors to the prefect bathroom a minute later, and Draco flicked his wand to pause Ginny in mid air. The red headed girl was hanging upside down looking thoroughly bored.

"Blaise and Draco shared a curious look. "She doesn't look that scared." Draco whispered to Blaise a little too loudly.

"That's because I'm not," Ginny interrupted, "You idiots don't have the new password to the prefects bathroom. It was changed yesterday."

Blaise hesitated for a moment, before turning to Draco, who was staring blankly at Ginny. "You know it, right?" Blaise asked desperately.

Draco eyed Blaise sheepishly. "Uhhh. No. Hermione usually told me it." He swallowed thickly. "Shit."

Blaise sighed loudly and ran his hands through his hair. "Fucking great. Just great."

They stood silently for a moment, while Ginny smiled cockily at them.

"We could always take her down to Moaning Myrtles bathroom," Draco suggested. "Flush her head in the toilet or something."

Ginny's smile fell, and her eyes widened in fear.

Draco chuckled. "That seems like it might be a great idea."

Blaise hesitated. "That's a couple of floors down. Someone'll catch us before then."

"Someone's already caught you," a low aristocratic voice sounded from behind them. Both boys shared a look before turning and coming face to face with Theodore Nott, who was smiling as though he just interrupted them mid-crime.

"What are you doing here, Nott?" Draco spat. "Snooping into other people's business again? Seeing what else you can use against them?"

Nott let out an amused snort. "Bit of resentment you've got there, Malfoy. If you must know, I was minding my business. I was just on my way for a bath when I caught you in the middle of torturing someone. Looks like it'll be another detention for you."

"Do you think I care about serving detentions?"

Nott shrugged. "I would've thought you'd be trying to behave, but I guess Granger hasn't tamed you as much as I thought."

Blaise grabbed Draco's shoulder as the boy lunged forward toward Nott, effectively stopping him.

"He's not worth it, mate, you can't afford to get into anymore shit." Blaise told him.

Nott scoffed. "You think torturing the Gryffindor Princess isn't going to get you into shit?" Nott flicked his wand, and Ginny fell to the ground with a thump.

"Bloody hell!" The red head cried, sounding eerily like her brother, "Could you not have done that a little more gently, Nott?"

The teen rolled his eyes. "Be thankful I helped you at all, Weasley."

She narrowed her eyes as she stood and brushed herself off. "Be careful I don't hex your bollocks off!"

Nott looked scandalized. "Why the hell are you abusing _me_? I saved you! You should be abusing _them_; they're the ones that were torturing you!"

Ginny scoffed. "_Saved me_? I didn't need saving, you idiot! I'm not some weak female, I could've handled them! The idiot's didn't even know the password to the bathroom!"

Blaise and Draco shared a look. "That was your fault." Draco whispered quietly. Blaise rolled his eyes, before turning to focus on the rather unexpected argument in front of them.

"Bloody women!" Nott cried, throwing his arms in the air dramatically, "That's why I don't bother with any of you! You're ungrateful, whiny little newts!"

Ginny stood tall, her eyes narrowed. "Did you just call me a newt, Nott?"

He crossed his arms, not backing down. "I did."

"You'll regret that!" Ginny growled.

Nott scoffed. "What are you going to do? Stop meeting me in the astronomy tower to snog? You've already done that!" Blaise and Draco shared a wide-eyed look, as Ginny blushed furiously looking guilty.

She glanced wearily at Blaise. "Don't get into this here, Theo." Ginny whispered quietly, "I explained all that."

Both Blaise and Draco suddenly felt like they were witnessing a conversation they shouldn't be, but it was too scandalous to leave. It was no longer a mere argument, but an argument between ex-lovers.

It seemed that Theodore Nott had been one of the boys who'd admired Ginny from afar. Or not so far, from the sounds of it. They'd been quite good at playing the part of mere strangers.

Theodore Nott had been in love with Ginny Weasley since the moment he laid eyes on her. That had been his 2nd year; her first. He loved her fiery hair and personality. The fact that she could discuss Quidditch, and play just as good as him. He loved that she wasn't afraid to hex someone who looked at her the wrong way, and that sun seemed to follow her whenever she went.

Unfortunately, Ginny Weasley never noticed him. They didn't share classes, and he only ever saw her in the corridors and at meal times, where he often spent less time eating and more time staring at the girl. But lots of the boys here did that; he was just one of them. Pathetic and invisible.

All that time staring at her, and he couldn't help but notice where her eyes had stared for years; to a spot down the table from him, where Draco Malfoy sat arrogantly and ignorantly. Theo had hated him ever since.

It had only been one night, after the very public breakup between Draco and Ginny, that he caught her in the corridor. She was alone, something rare for her, and he couldn't help but notice the sniffling sound that was coming from the dark corner she was hiding in.

He cared, something that was rare for him, and so instead of just walking past, he'd stopped and handed her his handkerchief. He'd felt foolish in doing so, but she'd smiled at him, and that had reassured him that it was the best decision of his life.

From that moment, he'd meet her every night. At first, he would listen to her talk about her problems, too scared to speak in case he said something stupid. Eventually he began to open up more, and then when they met, they would spend the nights talking and laughing together.

Then one night, something changed. She'd kissed him, and he knew that he would never be able to go back to being friends. He didn't want to.

However, he knew deep down that Ginny's feelings were still occupied elsewhere, and that he was just a distraction, but he didn't want to think about that. He had her, and the feeling of her writhing and moaning as they climaxed together was enough for him.

That was until a few months ago, when the reality had sunk in that she would never be his. He'd wanted to be with her, to let people know she was his, to stop the leering eyes of all the boys that still stared at her. In his mind, she was his, but in hers eyes, she never was.

It was always Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. They'd always been in the way, and they always would. So when he saw Hermione and Draco sneaking into the library, he'd taken advantage of it to ruin Draco's life just like he'd ruined Theo's.

Blaise hadn't been much of a problem, until recently when Ginny had ended their secret relationship, claiming that it always was, and always would be, Blaise Zabini.

They would, and always would be, the bane of Theodore Nott's existence.

"Yea, you explained it alright," Nott spat bitterly, eyeing Blaise with a hateful look.

Blaise held up his hand defensively. "Hey, don't blame me, I don't want her."

"Blaise!" Ginny growled, turning to him. "Just bloody admit it already. Deep down, you care for me."

"I can't admit it, because it would be a lie, Ginny!" He cried, frustrated that he'd said this more times than he'd care too.

"Wait a minute..." Draco began slowly, eyeing Nott with a suspicious expression. "The Quidditch game when you targeted Blaise. He wasn't just targeted because of me, was he?"

Nott looked between the two boys, before shrugging. "You know the saying, kill two birds with one stone."

"So that was because of Ginny?" Blaise asked incredulously. It seemed ridiculous that his life had almost been snuffed out merely because Nott was jealous.

Nott hesitated, looking at his feet. "It's all because of Ginny," he admitted bashfully. Ginny eyed him with a sorrowful expression.

"You know I care about you, Theo," She whispered, placing her hand in his arm, "It's just not you that I want. I'm sorry."

Nott shook her arm off, as though it pained him for her to touch him. "I don't want your pity, Weasley," he snapped reverting back to his hate-filled character, "You'll regret it when neither of those two will have you. Eventually people will get sick of you using them, then you'll be alone, and don't expect me to be here for you this time."

He pushed past her, and whispered the password to the bathroom before stepping in and shutting the door in their faces.

"Well, shit," Draco commented summing up the whole event in the only appropriate word.

"So looks like you really are a manipulative bitch," Blaise commented with a snort, "I never thought I'd feel bad for Nott, but I do."

Ginny crossed her arms. "I care about him, but you can't force yourself to love someone you don't."

Blaise's hand shot up and he pointed at her. "That! That is the point I've been trying to make, you idiot! I don't love you, and no matter how many times you whinge about it, I'm never going to! Do you _understand_?"

Ginny hesitated. "This is different. Theo and I were just friends who crossed the line."

Blaise shook his head, unable to believe her reasoning. She was too stubborn to admit that she was wrong.

"Just leave it for tonight, Zabini," Draco suggested from next to him, giving him a pat on the shoulder, "I'm far too shocked to torture anyone tonight."

Blaise ground his teeth, still eyeing the red head. "Bloody fine," he relented after a moment, "Tomorrow it'll be the toilets in Myrtles bathroom."

He was surprised when Ginny merely rolled her eyes at him, and slid down the wall beside the entrance to the prefect bathroom. She was obviously waiting for Nott.

Perhaps Ginny Weasley wasn't as heartless as she seemed. It was a shame that heart was so misguided.

"Do you really want to go after her tomorrow night?" Draco asked as they made their way to the dungeons. Both were still in shock over the revelation of Nott and Ginny's relationship.

Blaise shrugged. "I think she's close to giving up, if I hassle her a bit more, she might."

"I think you'd have better luck leaving it to Nott," Draco said, "he seems to have some sort of power over her. I think she's so desperate to be with an infamous Silver Marauder that she doesn't realise she's probably better off with him. They're just as crazy as each other."

Blaise chuckled. "Maybe, but I'd rather not leave the future of my relationship with Luna in the hands of a guy who tried to kill me."

Draco snorted. "True."

"Tomorrow afternoon _and_ night then?" Blaise suggested with a grin. "Surely she'd give up then."

Draco hesitated. "I can't. Quidditch practise starts tomorrow afternoon."

Blaise turned to him, surprised. "I didn't think you were going to play again?"

Draco shrugged. "It's a good distraction. All this is a good distraction."

"Maybe a distraction isn't what you need." Blaise suggested.

"This is all for her own good, Blaise." Draco told him, and it sounded as though he were trying to convince himself, "Even if she doesn't realise it now."

Blaise didn't say anything more, but merely wondered if Hermione would see this as being done for her own benefit.

* * *

><p>The girl in question was being distracted a lot herself during her stay at her Aunts.<p>

As she stepped out into the morning air, decked in track pants and runners, she was greeted by the sight in Emily sitting in the fence outside her Aunt's house. She sighed tiredly. She knew why Emily was hanging around, and she didn't want to have _that_ particular conversation.

She strolled down the front path and out of the fence, ignoring the girls' presence as she began to jog down the road. Unfortunately, she heard footstep jogging behind her. She groaned inwardly. This girl was determined.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" Hermione called behind her, having noticed that Emily was wearing her maroon school blazer. Hermione had noted that they were Gryffindor colours. It made her miss Hogwarts.

"I figured school could wait," the girl called back, catching up to her, "Could we stop running, I'm not exactly wearing the shoes for it."

Hermione eyed the stiff black dress shoes on the girls' feet, and slowed down to a walk.

"We have nothing to talk about Emily," Hermione told her.

"On the contrary, I think we have lots to talk about." Emily shot back happily, "That's if you're going to be truthful today."

Hermione shook her head in frustration. "Emily, there's nothing to talk about. Even if there was, what makes you think I'd tell you?"

The girl shrugged. "I supposed I feel like you should start a friendship off with honesty."

Hermione stopped mid-step and stared at the girl. "You want to be friends?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Obviously, Mione. You can trust me. Those boys told me things, and I never said anything. Mainly because people would think I was crazy, but also because I was glad that it was only me that knew those things."

"What boys?" Hermione asked, "You keep mentioning these boys, but who are they?"

The girl looked as though she were in deep concentration. "They had weird names...Blaine, I think. Or Darko? I don't remember. One was blonde and abnormally pale, and the other had messy brunette hair." Hermione furrowed her brow. "They said they lived in that house that only they could see- that you could see, too. They said something about muggles, and...and broomsticks!" She cried as an afterthought, as though it were a vital detail.

Hermione's head was reeling. That sounded too familiar for comfort...

"Was one of them a condescending git?" Hermione asked, fearing the answer.

Emily nodded. "Yea, the blond one. He was a little bit reluctant to speak to us."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione cursed in a whisper, cupping her head to prevent and imminent meltdown, "Draco lives here."

"Draco!" The girl cried, as though she'd struck gold, "That was his name! It was a weird name, I knew that much. Do you know him?"

Hermione backtracked, "No. I don't. Excuse me."

She moved around the girl and continued on her way, her heart racing at an unnatural pace that was not due to her exercise. Draco lived in that manor, which meant that Lucius Malfoy lived there. No wonder she'd gotten such a horrible vibe.

She heard footsteps behind her, as Emily caught up. "Come on, Mione. You don't have to ignore me. I'll leave you alone about it, ok? We can just hang out."

"You should be getting to school, that's what you should be doing right now." Hermione told her.

Emily laughed. "You're as bad as my mother. One day isn't going to hurt! I'll show you a spot I like to go to! It's beautiful; you haven't seen it yet."

Hermione hesitated. She wanted to be friends with Emily, but she knew the girl was determined to get an answer. That, paired with the fact that Lucius Malfoy was close by was all too much for Hermione, and she felt herself panic.

A warm hand around hers, however, pulled her from those negative thoughts, and instead she found herself being dragged along in some unknown direction by Emily.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, attempting rather uselessly to pull her hand free.

"I told you, I'm showing you the nicest place around here," she said happily as she pulled Hermione along.

Hermione resigned herself to Emily's control, and accepted that she should probably just let the girl distract herself if it meant that they wouldn't talk about magic, or those boys who Hermione now knew were Draco and Blaise.

After what felt like hours of walking, the two girls arrived in an area of steep, rock filled terrain. The rocks were piled up the slope, and resembled cliffs. Hermione mused that it reminded her of the scenery from Wuthering Heights, like the steep rocky cliffs of the moors that Cathy and Heathcliffe would explore.

"It's beautiful," Hermione breathed, as they climbed up the rocky slopes, which were quickly becoming a vertical climb.

"I know," Emily said, through breathlessness, "I come here alone to think sometimes. It's almost like you've entered another world, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded. The wind blowing on her face, and the peaceful green surroundings were calming her previous panic. So what if Lucius Malfoy lived here? By the looks of the plains and fields below them, you could get lost here. Which meant you'd be difficult to find, especially for someone who wasn't looking.

Emily stood at the edge of the highest rock, and spread her arms out, letting the wind whip past her.

"Be careful, Emily," Hermione warned, ever cautious, "You're wearing bulky shoes, remember."

She heard Emily chuckle as she turned. "I really will have to introduce you to my mo-," her sentence was cut off by a loud shriek as she began falling slightly off the end of the rock, her arms whipping around in order to regain her balance.

Hermione sprang forward just in time to see the girl fall backwards.

She shot her hand out and cried, "Aresto Momentum!"

Before running to the edge of the rock and seeing Emily floating just above the rock below her, before the spell wore of and she fell a few inches onto it with less speed.

Emily was visibly shaken, as she looked up at Hermione from her spot below. Hermione couldn't help but feel annoyed. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" She accused the girl.

Emily took a moment to respond. "Yea, Mione, I just near killed myself to try and catch you out!" She scoffed.

Hermione sighed. She knew the girl hadn't planned it, but now she knew that Hermione wasn't exactly normal. She couldn't have missed that.

"That was amazing, by the way, Hermione!" She called from below. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"You can't tell anyone!" Hermione called back, feeling herself begin to panic again.

Emily laughed; Hermione found it rather inappropriate. "As if I'd tell anyone! That's the coolest thing I've ever seen! It just proves that all these years, all these things I've believed in, they're true!"

Emily stood from her spot on the flat rock below. "Now how about some help up? I bet you don't know how to do that!"

Hermione hesitated. She felt like she could trust Emily with this secret, but she was always taught not to talk about this with muggles. However, maybe this was one time when she wouldn't have to pretend.

Hermione made her decision, she would trust Emily.

"Please, that's second year stuff." Hermione scoffed, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Emily shrieked as she began to float upwards in mid air. A moment later she was next to Hermione, who ended the spell.

"Wow," the girl breathed, looking shocked, "Do you think I could learn that?"

"Probably not," Hermione told her sadly.

"Damn," Emily groaned, looking genuinely disappointed, "so tell me, what school do you go to again?"

Hermione smiled at the girls' acceptance and enthusiasm. She supposed that there would be no secrets anymore.

The two girls walked home, Hermione telling Emily stories of Hogwarts, while purposely skimming on questions of the two boys. As they passed the lane with the tall hedge, both girls were so engulfed in their new friendship, that neither noticed the pair of grey eyes watching them from the fence line.

He had to look twice, but there was no mistaking that frizzy hair, or the topic of conversation.

The aristocratic man stared until the girls were out of view, before smirking. The cause of his problems, the filthy mudblood girl, was in town.

Unbeknownst to her, Hermione was no longer as safe as she thought.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**This took a long time to get up, but I have reasons. I moved AGAIN, and have just been overwhelmed with job hunting.**

**I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and hopefully the next one is up soon. I'm actually very excited to write it. And I know I'm torturing you guys with all the angst, but please be patient :)**

**Also, for the anonymous reviewer who (quite rudely) said something about the way I spell there, their and they're, yes I do know the difference, but I write over ten thousand words per chapter, I proof read and edit them all myself, usually late at night to get them up, excuse me if some mistakes get past. To all the other people who have put up with the occasional mistakes that slip through, thank you for not being so mean about it :)**

**Anyway guys, thank you for reading and reviewing, I've reached over 1000 reveiws ! :D**

**Thanks lovelies,**

**Leni**


	23. Chapter 23

_**Chapter 23**_

_****...in which things are forgotten.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Hermione's eyes slowly opened, and she turned her head to the view the world outside the window, blinking as her eyes adjusted to their surroundings. The weather was windy and cold today, and the window was fogged up and covered in raindrops. She groaned as she rolled over onto her other side.<p>

Of course the weather would decide to take a turn for the worst, just as she was starting to feel better.

Hermione had officially been at her Aunt's for five days. Of those five days, she'd spent every afternoon with Emily exploring the countryside, and telling each other secrets about their childhood and current life. Despite only knowing the girl for a few days, she'd felt like she'd made a lifelong friend.

Her first real muggle friend since her muggle-school days. Although, admittedly, she didn't have many friends back then.

She decided after a small internal battle, that it was probably best to get out of bed, despite the horrible weather and the temptation to spend the day under her doona. She headed toward the shower and turned the water on steaming hot, letting it run over her.

Her time away from Hogwarts had been good for her. It was nice to know that there was a world outside of Wizards and magic. To remember that she was not just a wizard, but a _human_. It was a relief to not be faced with constant prejudice about blood status.

It was one of the reasons she liked Emily so much. The girl admired Hermione for her abilities, and it wasn't constantly marred by the additional 'for a Muggleborn' added on the end of every compliment. In Emily's eyes, she was just...awesome. Hermione had to admit that she relished in it.

She dried off and dressed in a large sweater and jeans before racing down stairs. Aunt Edith was already awake, and was currently attempting to get Hugh and Tom to sit still in their seats long enough for her to comb their hair.

"But I like it messy, mum!" Tom whined, "I look like a rock star!"

Hermione chuckled as Edith rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, sweetie, but if I don't brush your hair, it'll go all crazy like Mione's," Edith told him. He immediately quietened.

Hermione huffed dramatically. "I'm not sure what to say about that."

Edith gave her a smile, "Sorry dear, but it seems to be the only thing that works."

She gave her Aunt a small smile before heading to the kitchen.

She made herself breakfast, which was soon gobbled down by her two cousins. Hermione was surprised that people so small could fit such a large amount in their bellies.

By the time Edith left to take them to the bus stop, the rain had stopped, and Hermione decided that perhaps she might go for a walk, since she had nothing better to do for the day. It was in that way that she missed having classes. For someone who had spent most of her time working on homework, having so much time on her hands was becoming a bit too much.

She left the house that morning rugged up in a thick jacket. The rain was still looking as though it might return, but she hoped it would hold off for a little. She didn't want to be cooped up inside all day.

She wasn't sure how much longer she would be spending at her aunt's house, but she wanted to make the most of the peace and tranquillity before she returned to Hogwarts. It was surprising to herself how little she'd thought about the things that awaited her at the school. The scowls, the gossip, the drama...Draco.

Draco was the one thing she was torn about. She missed him; of course she did, he was important to her, but on the other hand, she felt stupid for missing him. He'd given up on her so easily. Was he missing her?

She shook those thoughts away before they could lead to other horrible thoughts. Instead, she breathed in a long breath and began to speed up her pace down the same track she and Emily had gone down the first day they'd met.

She only knew now that she would steer clear of the lane by the hedge, especially since she knew how close Lucius Malfoy might be.

It seemed like an odd act of fate that Malfoy Manor would be so close to where she was staying. It was strange to think about all the times she'd visited her Aunt as a child, before her Hogwarts days, that Draco was so close the whole time. Maybe it was fate, or maybe a mere coincidence. However, she definitely didn't want to make her presence known to Lucius Malfoy. The further away from that lane she stayed, the better.

As her breathing quickened, and her legs began to sting, she slowed down to a walking pace just as a wet drop landed on her cheek. She groaned, as another, and then another hit her, and eventually the calm of the air around her erupted into the sound of thunder and heavy rain hitting the ground in large splashes.

She was soaked from head to toe by the time she reached the cover of a nearby tree. She pulled out her wand, and cast a drying and warming charm on herself, while awaiting the rain to pass.

Unfortunately it seemed to be getting heavier, and she could barely see beyond the horizon. She was tempted to run home, even if she got soaked, but knew it was too far. She would merely have to wait it out until the rain stopped. As she settled against the tree trunk, clutching her wand, she saw a dark figure approaching from the distance, any detail of their appearance marred by the heavy rain.

Hermione's heartbeat raced as another figure appeared behind it. The darkness of their outline, and their cloaks blowing in the wind reminded her of the Dementors she'd read about in Defence Against the Dark Arts class, but it couldn't possibly be...

Hermione clutched her wand in her hand tightly as they came closer, the charms were wearing off and she was beginning to shiver as her clothes and skin were pelted in ice-cold rain drops. The two strangers stopped in front of her, and one stepped forward.

In the down pour, she could see his face. It was marred by scars, and he looked as though he'd been tortured at some point in his life. His eyes were dark, and glassy, which made a shiver run down Hermione's spine as he looked her over. His hair was weighed down, and coloured black from the dampness of the rain, his travelling cloak looked much the same. He smiled, and it surprised Hermione that it seemed almost aristocratic, and gentlemanly. She'd half expected him to have teeth rotting out of his mouth.

Her eyes flickered to the other man, but she found she couldn't see his features, but merely the heavy rain falling in front of his face. Her attention was ripped back to the first man as he spoke in an unexpected silky lull.

"Hello, lovely. Need some help?"

* * *

><p>"I'll kill 'im!" Roared Ron Weasley as he stormed around the boys' dorm that morning. "How dare he shag my sister! And Ginny! I thought she had some standards!"<p>

Draco, Blaise and Harry watched on from their beds as they put the finishing touches on their uniforms for that day.

"I hate to admit it mate," said Blaise as he adjusted his tie, "but this is a good thing. It means if I can convince Nott to forgive Ginny, maybe she'll leave me alone and go back to him, and then Luna will be willing to be with me again. It's great, really."

"Great!?" Crowed Weasley, as he whipped around to glare incredulously at Blaise. "It's _Nott_ we're talking about! I won't have it!"

Blaise rolled his eyes. Like Weasley had ever had an impact on Ginny's love life before. Or any of her decisions at all, actually.

"Well, it's Ginny we're talking about," Draco added, slipping on one of his shoes, and tying the laces, "She's not got the best taste, or any brains."

Potter snorted in amusement, "You just offended yourself, mate. Didnt you shag her for like a whole week-," he was cut off abruptly by Draco's shoe connecting with his nose.

"Bloody hell!"

Weasley sat staring wide-eyed at Draco. "You didn't really, did you? If you did...!"

Draco shook his head, looking exasperated. "I didn't, I already told you this when you bugged me about it constantly. I never actually shagged her."

Potter glared at Draco, rubbing his nose. Blaise shook his head at his spectacled friend. It would be best if they left that chapter in the past, it would just work up Weasley more than he already was.

Luckily for Draco, Ron was far too absorbed in his disgust at Nott to accuse him any further.

They left for breakfast minutes later, with Ron still red-faced and ranting. Potter looked as though he were attempting to calm him; however, Blaise knew better and assumed he was working the red-head up even more.

"So that was a lie, right?" Blaise asked, Draco as they followed behind their pair of friends. Draco looked incredibly uncomfortable at the question.

"It's none of your business, Zabini." He said gruffly. Blaise scoffed.

"Really? You're not going to tell me?" Blaise asked incredulously, "Doesn't really matter anyway, does it, I already know it was a lie."

Draco shrugged casually. "Well, if you already know than it won't matter what I say."

Blaise groaned in frustration. "You're a bloody git. Did you really sleep with her, even though you fancied Hermione-,"

"What do you think?" Draco suddenly spat, his face marred with annoyance as he turned to face Blaise. Blaise thought it may have more to do with the mention of a certain witch's name, then the question itself. "I'm the infamous Draco Malfoy. Selfish git, asshole, gutless fool. What do _you_ think I did, Zabini?"

Blaise hesitated. It was true that Draco could be all of those things at times, but something in his eyes was telling Blaise that perhaps it wasn't the case this time.

"You didn't." He answered, barely containing his surprise. It wasn't a question, but a mere realisation.

Draco looked past Blaise at the wall behind him, as though he felt uncomfortable to meet his gaze. "I only dated her to piss you off, and because...because I wanted to prove that I could still get any girl I wanted, even when Gra-_she _didn't want me. I barely looked at Ginny during our time together...I was always too busy looking at _her_."

Blaise nodded, not sure what else to do at his friends show of emotion. "I guess Ginny just made out as though, you know, you did."

"Course she would," Draco scowled, "it was that or admit that I rejected her multiple times. It was one of the reasons she was the first to become suspicious, I suppose. She was always watching me, and I was always watching someone else..." He let out a sigh, before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning his gaze to his feet.

Blaise eyed his friend for a moment, "She'll be back soon."

Draco didn't move in his stance. "Back soon and hating me. Oh joy."

"It doesn't have to be like this," Blaise insisted, "She'll forgive you. She'll understand."

Draco shook his head, his eyes closed, as though he couldn't bear to let himself belief such fruitless hope.

"There's no point. For as long as I'm a Malfoy, I can't be with her." Draco said, his voice shaky, "I've got my life planned out by my parents, and leaving all the prejudice bullshit behind and being with a Muggleborn is not something they would live with. It's not something my father would let me live with."

"You really think he'd kill you? You're his only heir he wouldn't do that."

"He wouldn't do that, but he would get her, somehow he would hurt her. I couldn't live with myself if I knew it was because of me."

"We'd help you," Blaise fought, "Do you honestly think I, or Ron or Harry, would let anything happen to her? You're our best mate; we would make sure she was safe for you."

Draco met Blaise eyes, looking as though he were shocked that anyone would do that for him. It was then that Blaise realised he had never had anyone care for him. It had always been Blaise, and now it was Hermione. And because of his upbringing, the one reason he was miserable, he was convinced he was going to be miserable his whole life.

"Even so, I couldn't risk it. It's safer just to stay away," the blonde said, looking as though he were trying to convince himself for the hundredth time, "At least, I might see her occasionally, even if it not with me."

"I think you're giving up too soon."

"Well, I think I'm doing what my father said in the hopes that he might leave her alone to live out her life safely." Draco snapped back.

Blaise stared at his friend for a moment; suddenly he could see the darkness that marred the underneath of his eyes, the stubble that was growing a light shade of blonde, and the fact that his tie wasn't even tied properly. He didn't look like someone who was fighting for the life of the woman he loved; he looked like someone who'd already given up. He was mourning.

Because in order to save her, he had to give up on her. Even if it meant slowly deteriorating in the process.

The only thought that was running through Blaise's mind at that moment, was that up until this point, he hadn't even noticed. He'd been so preoccupied with his own problems, that he left his friend to do this alone. Even though he knew Draco was strong enough to handle it alone, he shouldn't have had to.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, It's not your fault." Draco replied, brushing off the apology, but not fully understanding the meaning behind it. "We should get to breakfast."

Draco turned and set off down the hall; despite the fact that Blaise knew he probably had no intention of eating.

When they reached the Great hall, or more specifically, the Slytherin table, Weasley was glaring holes into Theodore Nott, who was ignorantly eating breakfast with his friend, Culver. Blaise wondered at what point during the day the red-head would snap, however, that was the least of his problems.

Blaise's eyes, much to his chagrin at his previous thoughts of selfishness, went straight Luna. The blonde girl was eating her breakfast in small bites, not noticing how the people around her were turned away, not bothering to include her in their conversations. Blaise scowled at them.

Luna was too nice for her own good. Blaise knew he was one of the only people who took the time to talk to her, and include her in his life. It just showed how selfless, or maybe gullible, she was that she would give that up all for Ginny's stupid games.

Blaise could feel himself getting angry at her. It worried him. Even if things went back to normal with him and Luna, he would always know, deep down, that she had given up their relationship for her friendship with Ginny. Maybe it wouldn't be the same...?

He felt another pair of eyes burning into him, and he turned toward the Gryffindor table to find Ginny staring at him. When she caught his eye, she smiled. He scowled back, and she looked down at her plate.

It wouldn't matter how betrayed he felt from Luna, he would never forget whose fault it was that he was in this position. He turned away to find Nott scowling at him, before the boy returned to his breakfast.

It was funny, really, that Ginny should reject the only person who seemed to truly care for her. In that moment he could hardly blame Nott for hating him and Draco, they had gotten her attention so easily, but it seemed that Nott had had to bend over backwards to merely have her look at him twice.

Despite his sentiments on the subject of Ginny, Blaise could see the way Nott's eyes were flicking between Culver's face as he spoke toward Ginny's as she joined in the laughter with her friends at the Gryffindor table. There was something there, he looked hurt, but he also looked hopeful. Hurt and hope, what an odd combination. But he supposed they were all feeling it somehow; he, Draco and Nott. They all wanted someone they currently couldn't have.

It was funny how things were so complicated when they could really be a lot easier if people just did what they really wanted...

"Oi!" The sound of Nott's outraged cry broke Blaise from his thoughts and he turned to find the tall boy covered from head to toe in what was previously a bowl of porridge. _Weasley's_ porridge.

Blaise groaned as he saw Weasley shoot across the table and grab Nott by the front of his robes, pulling him to the floor and bringing his fist down upon the other boys face. Potter seemed to act quickly, along with Culver in attempting to pull the red-head away, however as Potter barged Culver out of the way, the boy retaliated in his own way by raising his fist and sending it crashing into Potter's eye, snapping the lens of his glasses.

The great hall was torn between girlish squeals and cries of enthusiasm at the brawl, which was now in full swing.

Blaise grabbed Culver by the robes, only to have the boy elbow him in the face from behind as he sent another punch to Potter, who was swinging rather blindly without his glasses. He fell backwards, only to find Draco behind him to jump in and grab Culver around the neck in a head lock.

There was a loud eruption over the cries and yowls of the hall, and there was an explosion of fireworks above them.

"SILENCE!" A loud voice boomed over the sudden silence. The students turned to find a furious-looking Dumbledore, along with an equally furious looking Snape and McGonagall.

"What is the meaning of this?" The headmaster boomed as he made his way to the Slytherin table.

"He shagged my sister!" Weasley howled, pointing an accusing finger at Nott, who was eyeing him with hate while wiping blood from his face.

The occupants of the Great Hall all turned to look at Ginny who was standing at her spot on the Gryffindor table, looking horrified. Nott looked equally horrified, though Blaise assumed it was because the hopes he had of Ginny rekindling their relationship now would be fruitless. She looked ashamed that she'd had any association with him. Her friends looked disgusted.

The hall broke into a buzz of gossip, as Ginny raced out the doors looking close to tears.

"Silence!" Dumbledore shouted again. The hall quietened.

"You two," Dumbledore ordered, eyeing Weasley and Nott, "come with me. Now. I will leave the rest of you to be punished by your head of house."

Weasley and Nott both stood, looking rather apprehensive about their punishment from Dumbledore. The rest of Slytherin house looked equally afraid as a furious Snape made his way over, even though it was the Silver Marauders and Culver who should be worried.

"Draco, Zabini, Culver, Potter, all of you will report to my office tonight after dinner. Be warned, I take violence to be a serious offence, be prepared for an equally serious punishment."

The books looked alarmed as he left in a swish of robes, following Dumbledore's previous exit.

"We're fucked," Potter muttered, looking nervous.

"Weasley's the one with the problem," Draco pointed out.

"You think he'll get kicked out?" Potter asked, looking as though the mere idea was unthinkable.

Draco nodded. "It's a given. He's already got a strike against his name, now it's just a case of whether or not he get's expelled or just suspended. Oh, what I would pay to see Mother Weasley's face when she finds out."

"It's not funny, you git!" Potter cried, looking annoyed as Draco chuckled.

Blaise continued wiping the blood from his nose, as the Great Hall went back to their breakfast, though most of them were talking excitably over the mornings events.

Blaise decided instead, to head to the hospital wing in the hopes that the nurse could take some of the pain from his nose. He'd already broken it once and didn't want any irreparable damage. He had just made it out of the great hall, when he heard a soft voice from behind him.

"That looks quite painful," Luna said dreamily, pointing at his nose.

"Is it that obvious?" He asked, trying to ignore the sudden racing speed and nervous jump of his heart.

"Do you think it's true? About Ginny and Theodore Nott?" She asked, looking thoughtful.

Blaise nodded. "It's true. He loves her."

Luna stared at him. "But she loves you-,"

"She doesn't." Blaise jumped in quickly. "She doesn't at all, Luna. The thing you need to realise is that there's a big difference between infatuation and love. Ginny only claims to love me because she knows it will look good to other people. What she does with Nott in secret, that's what she really wants."

Luna cocked her head. "How do you know it isn't the other way round?"

"I don't, I suppose." He admitted, "I just think it's true...I think she loves him, but she's too worried about what everybody else thinks to admit it yet."

"Kind of like Draco and Hermione, then?" Luna asked.

Blaise let out a wry laugh. "Yes. Exactly like that."

She didn't look pleased with that evaluation. "Why is she ashamed of him? He's a Slytherin, just like you, it shouldn't be any different."

Blaise scratched his brow. "Well...I guess if you're a Silver Marauder it doesn't really matter if you're a Slytherin."

"So you're saying you're better than the rest of them?" She asked, plainly, with no ounce of malice.

"No." He said quickly, "Not at all. It's just, well, Nott has never been incredibly popular, especially since Draco took a disliking to him. It's stupid really, but I guess Ginny cares about her reputation."

Luna looked sad about that. "That is stupid. So she either loves you both, or she lied to me."

"She doesn't love me," Blaise told her, fighting the urge to shake the idea into her. He didn't care if Ginny actually did; he just wanted Luna to understand Ginny's true motives.

"So she lied." Luna said softly. "I believed her."

Blaise hated the expression on her face. Either way someone would get hurt, right now it was Luna.

"She's good at getting people to do that," Blaise told her. "I'm just surprised you were one of those people. I thought what we had was more important to you then your friendship with her."

Luna sighed. "I can't explain it, Blaise, but I understand that you're angry."

"It's not really anger, Luna; anger would be easy. It's like disappointment and betrayal, all in one."

He swallowed thickly, hoping she wouldn't notice how difficult it was to express the way he felt.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me;" The petite blonde began, her voice sincere, "I know you might not be able to. I just want you to know that I understand that it was wrong. I should have fought for us. I should have said no to someone walking all over me for once."

"Well, it's a good time to start." Blaise said, happy that she had made the realisation he'd tried to convince her of for days.

"I'll suppose I'll let you get to the hospital wing. That does look incredibly painful." She said, eyeing his bloody nose.

He nodded, and reluctantly turned to leave. However, this time it didn't feel as hopeless as it had before. This time it felt like the beginning, not the end.

* * *

><p>Hermione stood firmly on her feet, her wand behind her back, ready in case she needed to defend herself.<p>

"Well, lovely?" The man prodded. "What are you doing out in this weather?"

He motioned to the rain around them.

"I could ask you the same," She shot back. The man chuckled.

"Fiery little thing, aren't you? Where are you from? I haven't seen you around here before, and we make it our business to know everyone here."

Hermione didn't like his tone, it seemed almost threatening. "Well, where I'm from isn't any of your business." She informed him, gripping her wand behind her.

The man chucked again, clearly amused at her attitude. "Put the wand away, sweetie, you won't be needing that. I just want to chat."

Hermione froze, wide eyed. The man grinned wolfishly. "It's not just a muggle village here, lovely, some of the most prominent wizarding families live around here, though I'm sure you already know that by now."

"Who are you?" She asked, her voice cracking with fear.

"Well if you won't tell me, I certainly won't tell you. That's not fair, is it?" he said, grinning. "Doesn't really matter though, because I already know who you are. The little mudblood that Lucius Malfoy is all worked up about, all because his son fancies you. I'm certainly sick of hearing about that, that's for sure." The man looked exasperated, ignoring Hermione fearful expression.

"What do you want?" She asked, feeling the fear grip her heart. If Lucius Malfoy knew she was here...

"Calm down, lovely, I told you I'm just here to chat." He said, with a smirk Hermione didn't trust. "So you don't live around here, but you're staying here during the school term, which means you've got family here, right lovely?"

Hermione panicked. She didn't want Lucius to find out that she had family here; it would put them in danger. What if he came after her?

"I'm staying with a friend," She shot back quickly.

"A friend?" The man repeated, looking sceptical. "I see. Well, who's your friend then, love?"

"None of your business." She spat.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, love, calm down. I was just making conversation. Now you best get out of this rain before you catch your death." He waved his wand at her, causing her to flinch, however no pain came, and instead she felt a warming and drying charm take effect.

"Twitchy little thing, aren't you?" The man said, amusedly. "Now run along, love, perhaps we'll run into each other again."

Hermione hoped not. As she ran back the way she'd come, her shoes slipping in the mud, she could feel eyes on her, and knew it wouldn't be safe to go home anytime soon. Instead, she made her way to the corner shop that Emily's parents owned.

Emily's father looked up immediately at her entrance. He was a nice man, with hair greying in areas, and a little too much weight around the stomach. He was kind though, something Hermione had sensed when she'd met him the first night Emily invited her to dinner with her parents.

Mr Myers stood as Hermione walked to the counter. "You're absolutely soaked, Hermione! Did you walk all the way here just to buy something? I could've delivered it, you silly goose."

Hermione chuckled at his exclamation. "I actually got caught in the rain, Mr Myers. I thought I'd drop in and wait for it to stop."

"Oh, I see." The man said, looking sheepish at his previous outburst. "Well, why don't you run upstairs and say hello to Emily. She's been a bit under the weather today, wasn't up to going to school."

Hermione frowned. "Is she very sick?" She'd been perfectly well that day before.

"She's just been a bit...spaced out. I suppose it's a flu coming on," he said in way of explanation, "I'm sure it's not contagious yet."

Hermione nodded, as she went out the back door of the shop and climbed the stairs to the house that occupied the area above the small store. The entrance to the home brought you into the lounge room. It was a small, cosy house, much like her Aunts. There was a simple lounge in front of the television, with a few photographs, shelves and other knick-knacks scattered around. It was homely. Hermione loved it.

She found Emily seated on the lounge, staring blankly at the television. That wouldn't have been unusual if the television wasn't turned off.

Hermione paused. "Emily?" No response. "Emily?"

As though she'd just been woken, the girls head snapped around to look at Hermione and her blank expression disappeared to be replaced with a large grin.

"Mione! What are you doing here?" The girl said happily, bouncing toward her. It was an odd change from her behaviour just moments before.

"I just dropped in to see how you were," Hermione explained. "Your dad said you were sick?"

"Oh, yeah, I suppose it's a flu," the girl said, rubbing her forehead with furrowed brows. "It's weird. But I'm fine. Do you want to stay and watch some movies? Please say yes, I'm dying of boredom."

Hermione nodded, trying to ignore the odd feeling of weariness in her stomach at Emily's explanation. "Of course, that'd be fun."

They spent the afternoon watching Emily's collection of ridiculously sappy teen movies, which had Hermione rolling her eyes, despite the fact some of them hit home on her feelings and situation with Draco: the boy she had tried not to think about over the past few days.

It was during the end of Pretty in Pink, that Hermione found herself drifting off on the edge of Emily's bed. The other girl was staring blankly at the television as Hermione eyes closed and everything drifted into darkness.

There was a loud shriek and a bang when Hermione woke with a start some hours later. The room was empty and dark, apart from the faint glow emitted from the televisions blank screen. Hermione's heart was racing, and her hands began to shake as she heard another loud cry from somewhere in the house.

She froze. Something was wrong.

She moved her unsteady hands to her pocket and felt around for the only source of comfort she could find. Her wand. More panic set in when she found it wasn't in her pocket. She grasped desperately over herself, hoping to feel it somewhere on or around her person. It was nowhere to be found.

She heard another desperate, inaudible cry from below, and fighting the urge to run to safety, she cautiously made her way down stairs, trying hard not to let her breath out for fear it would give her away in the dead silence.

As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she froze, hoping to hear the sound of the intruder. There was nothing but the slight whimpers and desperate plea's she recognised as Emily's mother.

Hermione had to admit that without her wand, she had no idea what to do. She didn't know who the intruders were. Were they muggle? Or according to the strange man she met today, they could be wizard. She froze. That man, he was an acquaintance of Lucius Malfoy. Maybe it was him, just around the corner, hurting the Myers?

She knew that without her wand, she was defenceless, but if Lucius Malfoy was behind this, then it was because of her that they were even in this position. What a sick, twisted way of getting at someone.

Fuelled by her anger and disgust at the elder Malfoy, she rushed forward through the doorway to the Myers' sitting room, ready to (hopefully) use some non-verbal spells in her surprise attack. When she rushed the room, her expression of fierceness fell from her face, and a look of shock and confusion adorned her face at the scene.

One the farthest couch, Mr and Mrs Myers sat trembling, the latter's face was glistening with tears. It was the direction of their distressed expressions that made Hermione turn fully to see what was causing their reaction. It wasn't what she had expected.

Instead of seeing a fully grown man, possibly torturing their daughter, or threatening to hurt them, she saw Emily, pacing back and forth, her father's hunting rifle slung from one hand, Hermione's wand in the others.

When Emily noticed Hermione's intrusion, she stopped pacing and looked up at her. Her expression was blank and cold, her eyes weren't her own, as though she were hypnotised. But a small flicker of panic behind those eyes made Hermione's blood run cold. Whatever Emily was doing, or thinking of doing, it was obvious she wasn't even conscious of it. She wasn't in control of her body or mind right now. Someone else was.

"Emily, give me my wand." Hermione asked calmly, hoping to appeal to what was left of her friend inside the puppet in front of her. She didn't care if Mr and Mrs Myers thought she was crazy asking for a stick of wood back. If everything went her way, they wouldn't remember any of this by the morning.

Emily sneered; an expression Hermione had never seen on her face before, it was cold nasty. The only time she had ever remembered someone looking at her like that was...Draco Malfoy. This only instilled in her mind more fully that Lucius Malfoy was behind it. It was the only explanation she could come up with.

"You think you deserve this?" The girl spoke in a bitter tone, holding up Hermione's wand between her small fingers. "You don't deserve to use it at all. You're a mudblood. Not even worthy of the magic you have."

"Emily, dear, just put your father's gun down. You don't want to hurt anyone." Mrs Myers pleaded.

"Shut up!" Emily cried, lifting the gun at the woman, who was immediately cocooned by her husband, who looked fearful but also worried about his daughter's sanity.

Hermione, despite understanding that this person in front of her was hardly her friend, couldn't help the rush of hurt that hit her at those words. And when a chuckle came from Emily's mouth, only to be joined by another lower one from behind her, she spun to find herself face to face with a tall figure in a long, black cloak, his face covered with a mask. A mask that would be recognised anywhere, as it was the uniform of the infamous Death Eaters.

Hermione stumbled away from the man, as two more appeared from behind him wearing similar dress. But they couldn't be Death Eaters, they hadn't been seen since Voldemorts downfall when most of them were sent to Azkaban. No one would risk even putting on the costume; it represented too many horrible things. But these men in front of her, maybe they were never caught. Maybe they really _were_ Death Eaters.

"Who are you?" Mr Myers cried, standing from his spot next to his wife. "How did you get in! Emily, what's wrong with you? What's going on here?"

"Quiet, muggle filth," one of the men spoke calmly, flinging his wand at Mr Myers. A jet of green light struck the older man in the chest, and he fell limp on the floor. Mrs Myers let out a shriek as her husband's lifeless, glazed over eyes stared into nothingness. Hermione let out a strangled sob; he had only been trying to protect his wife and daughter.

"What did you do that for?" Another of the Death Eaters hissed, "It's no fun if you just kill them straight away."

The Death Eater at the end of his wrath merely ignored him. He raised his wand toward Emily, and in what felt like slow motion, he flicked it in one swift motion. Hermione felt herself unable to move in order to protect her, however, no light came, and in fact it seemed Emily was brought back to consciousness, because her eyes regained expression, and she threw Hermione's wand and her father's rifle to the ground without thought as she let out an agonised wail at the sight of her father's lifeless body in front of her.

"What happened?" She pleaded with her mother, who was still sobbing uncontrollably, "What happened to him, mum?"

It was then that she seemed to notice they weren't alone in the room. Her eyes only skimmed over Hermione, before they came to rest fearfully on the three men standing in the doorway. A rush of fear seemed to shoot through her, and she grabbed her mother's arm, and began to pull it.

"We have to get out of here, mum, come on." Her mother shook her head furiously, burying her head in the still chest of Mr Myers. Emily continued pleading, barely taking her eyes of the men who were taking great amusement from their distress.

"Please just leave them!" Hermione cried, tears burning her eyes, "What do you want?"

"The mudblood's trying to act tough," one of the masked men chuckled, "don't worry, love, you'll get your turn."

"Please just leave them," she pleaded, watching Emily attempt to pull her mother away from her father's corpse, "They have nothing to do with this."

"And what does this have to do with, little know-it-all?" One of the men sneered, walking to her other side, and effectively trapping her between them.

"Well," Hermione began, hoping to provide a distraction for Emily and her mother to escape, "I'm the only witch here, they're only muggles. You wouldn't waste your time torturing them if there wasn't a reason for it. Lucius Malfoy sent you, didn't he? He won't get his hands dirty himself, will he?"

The three men chuckled, before walking fully into the room, and ruining any chance of Emily and her mother making their way to safety.

"On the contrary, little girl," one of the men answered, his voice full of cruel amusement, "torturing muggles is one of our favourite pass-times. Mudbloods, too." He said, turning his masked face towards her.

Hermione tried to ignore the panic and fear that was beginning to overtake her calm demeanour. It was obvious, despite their denial, that this was about her, and not about their mere amusement. They knew she cared for Emily and her family, it was why they were targeted. Suddenly she felt sick. If they were here, did it mean there were more at her Aunt's house? Did they know that's where she was staying?

"Just let them go, please, I'll do whatever you say," Hermione pleaded, hearing the cries of the torn family beside her as they mourned for their lost father and husband.

She heard one of the men sigh tiredly. "You don't understand, do you, love? We aren't here to hurt _you; _we're here to teach you a lesson. If you don't learn your place as a filthy mudblood, you will lose everyone you care for; I'll make very sure of that."

"What the bloody hell did you tell her that for?" Another of the med cried, hitting the first across the back of the head.

Hermione knew this couldn't just be about her blood. It had to be about more than that.

"It's about me being with a pureblood, isn't it? Draco Malfoy? Well you don't have to worry about that. You can tell his father that he'll make him proud, he won't be with _filth_." She spat, hating to think of the situation with Draco.

One of the men chuckled. "Well, I'd love to take your word for that, but we'd much rather ensure that certainty for ourselves." He turned to Emily and Mrs Myers, and waved his wand at the former. "Stand up."

Immediately, Emily's eyes glazed over, and she stood. Her mind was no longer her own.

"What are you doing?" Hermione questioned, racing to her side, and grabbing Emily by the shoulders. She was immediately flung into the adjacent wall, the air escaping her lungs in a rush of pain.

"Keep your distance, love," one of the mean growled. Flicking his wand, Hermione was unstuck from the wall and fell in a ball on the ground. She was breathing heavily as she glared at the men in front of her. However, her anger didn't last for long as she noticed, a few feet in front of her, her wand.

"Now pick up that gun," the masked man ordered Emily; she complied easily.

Hermione, taking advantage of the distraction as Emily picked up the hunting rifle, edged across the floor, toward her only ounce of hope.

"Good girl." The man cooed, sickeningly. "Now point it at your mother."

She did as he said, and Hermione knew she had to act fast. She threw herself at her wand, and clutched it in her hand. She threw a spell at the closest man, and thanked Merlin when it knocked him off his feet. However, the men retaliated quickly.

She was once again thrown by a strong spell into the wall, only this time, her head struck the hearth of the fireplace, with a loud crack. The room immediately became fuzzy, and the voices she heard were unclear, and distant.

She tried to raise her head, but found that the black was closing in fast. She heard was the pleas of Mrs Myers, and the sound of a Death Eaters orders.

"Pull the trigger, love."

The last thing Hermione heard before the world went black was the loud, racketing bang of the rifle. The Myers family was effectively destroyed.

* * *

><p>She awoke to the sound of rushed voices, as she ascended from the black void.<p>

"Why wasn't her safety ensured?" Said a voice in a stern, Scottish accent. She recognised it as Professor McGonagall.

"There was no way of predicting this would happen." A low, smooth voice answered. It was Dumbledore. "A random muggle attack cannot be predicted."

Random muggle attack? Hermione racked her brain in an attempt to remember what had happened. She couldn't. She couldn't even remember the last place she was.

"I think it's quite obvious this wasn't 'random', Albus," McGonagall returned in a rushed whisper. "Not when Lucius Malfoy is in such proximity. You must be aware of the events of the past few months that would make Miss Granger a target."

Hermione racked her brain again, trying to gather some memory to understand what Professor McGonagall was talking about. She couldn't find anything. Why would Lucius Malfoy hate her, other than for her blood? It would seem odd that he would choose to target her, other than the fact she was beating his son in all their classes.

"We can't make such accusation until we have concrete evidence, Minerva," Dumbledore said, trying to calm her. "The ministry had sent its people to investigate. Unfortunately, the Healers can't do anything to recover the memories of the Myers girl; it would seem that this was the purpose of the attacker. To put the blame on the daughter. However, the ministry has interfered with the investigation, which would surely see Emily Myers locked up in a facility. Our only hope is Miss Granger's account."

Hermione was confused. She didn't know who or what they were talking about.

"What will become of the girl, Albus?" McGonagall questioned, her voice softening with concern. "She has no family, no home, and no memories."

Dumbledore sighed. "In her muggle town they're convinced she's a murderer. They believe she's already locked up. However, I am torn between attempting to recover her memories of her life, or letting her start afresh without the knowledge that her family is dead."

"It's not our decision to make, Albus," McGonagall said. "We must try to regain those memories and discover the truth of what happened."

The conversation descended into silence, leaving Hermione to wonder what exactly needed to be remembered.

She slowly opened her eyes for the first time since regaining consciousness. She was in a brightly lit hospital room, which she assumed was as St Mungo's. She blinked rapidly, feeling the sudden ache of head pain coming on.

"She's awake," she heard a voice say, and a group of people rushed toward her, including her two professors. A healer began checking her vital signs and forcing her to swallow foul-tasting potions, which she was thankful for once it removed her pain.

"How do you feel?" A young Medi-witch asked her. The woman looked concerned, and Hermione wondered why the others' expressions matched it. Had something terrible happened?

"I feel fine..." She answered in a low voice, hesitantly watching McGonagall's furrowed brow. "What happened?"

The group before her shared a concerned look between them. This only increased her feelings of anxiousness.

"What's the last thing you remember?" The Medi-witch asked, looking as though the answer was the ne all and end all of everything.

Hermione turned away trying to remember her last memory. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the brightness of the room in the hopes that it would help her concentrate. Her last memory, her last memory...

She had it. Her last memory or at least the most recent thing she could remember was hanging upside down in the prefect's bathroom with the Silver Marauders. They were laughing and jeering as Malfoy dunked her repeatedly into the water. She felt an intense hatred, but decided that she wouldn't mention that. Perhaps they'd injured her more than she remembered.

"The first week of school," she answered, "I was walking back to my dorm. That's the last thing I remember."

The group shared another concerned glance, before the Medi-witch spoke to the two professors.

"We'll run some tests; it could just be the head injury." She didn't look convinced though.

The Medi-witch left the room some time later, allowing Hermione to have a chance to speak to her Professors.

"What happened? What's going on?"

"You were involved in an incident where two muggles were killed," Dumbledore explained, solemnly. "It's unclear exactly what has happened, but the daughter of the two muggles is alive and well, thanks to a neighbour who called the police. However, her memory was erased, and we are unable to discover who committed the crime. We were hoping that perhaps you would remember something."

Hermione stared at the man as he spoke. "Are you saying someone's erased my memory?" She asked, barely containing her anxiety.

"It could just be short-term loss from your head injury, as the Mediwitch said," Professor McGonagall said in way of hope.

"But what if it's not?" Hermione asked, "What am I not remembering? How much time am I forgetting?"

McGonagall sighed, as though she weren't sure whether she should answer those questions.

"It's the beginning of May, Miss Granger. You've lost around nine months of your memory. The whole school year, it seems."

Hermione turned away and stared at the wall.

Six months, just gone. It couldn't be possible. It felt like the memory of being tortured in the bathroom by the Silver Marauders had happened just last night. But it hadn't. There were so many holes that she couldn't piece together.

Why was she with a family of muggles? Why wasn't she at Hogwarts? What had she forgotten over the nine months she'd been at school?

"Do my parents know what happened?" She asked, suddenly. Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Your family has been informed; they will be escorted here shortly to see you, however, as you know, muggles cannot enter St Mungo's. Given the circumstances, we have decided the safest place for you is back at Hogwarts. Now that your immediate safety is assured, you will be moved to the Hospital Wing. Your family will be under Auror protection-,"

"Protection?" Hermione questioned, "Are my parents in danger? Why are they involved?"

Dumbledore placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Relax, Miss Granger, everything will be explained in due time. For now, just know that you and the ones you care for are safe."

Hermione found it difficult to relax, given that she was missing a large portion of her memories. However, the only comfort she had was that, besides the incident that had just passed, not many eventful things would have happened. After all, she was just Hogwarts bookworm, she lived in the shadows.

She felt her eyes getting heavy, and idly looked at the clock on the wall. It was 3 in the morning, but she felt that the fatigue that had suddenly overcome her had more to do with the potions she'd just consumed, and less to do with the time.

She was satisfied, however, that she would see her family soon, and despite her confusion about everything that had happened, she let herself slip into a relaxed slumber.

* * *

><p>Blaise sat at the Slytherin table early the next morning, his head rested on his hand. He had given up on sleep long ago, and left his roommates snoring away merrily in their dorm as he headed somewhere a bit more peaceful.<p>

The Great Hall wasn't completely empty at this time of the morning, with a few early risers taking advantage of the quiet to catch up on homework, and to grab the bacon before anyone else did.

Blaise's motives were different that morning. He was struggling to stop his brain from ticking. His conversation with Luna had left him unable to rest, and feeling as though perhaps what he thought he knew, he didn't know at all.

He ran his hands roughly through his hair with a frustrated groan. What did he do now? Did he fight for Luna? Make her see how he felt? Or wait for her to do that? After all, it was her who had ended it.

But could he risk that? If he acted as though things were fine, it would be a lie. He was bitter, resentful, and he couldn't just ignore those feelings. But if he didn't act immediately, maybe things would be too damaged to be repaired.

He rubbed his eyes roughly, wishing that he didn't have all these problems. Things had been so simple a few of weeks ago. Things had been great, not just for him.

Draco had been happy; well, as happy as Draco could be. He and Hermione had been happy together, despite their secret relationship, they'd both been content. Now, one was on leave from school, the other was slowly deteriorating into nothing.

Potter and Weasley had been as arrogant and mischievous as ever. However, now Weasley was suspended from school for a month, and Potter was devastated at the thought of his best mate leaving for that long. And now, they all had a month's detention with Snape doing Merlin-knows-what sort of horrible tasks.

Yep, everything had just gone awry.

He looked up as the hall began to fill with more occupants, disappointed as the silence was broken by the inane chatter.

"Morning," an unenthusiastic voice sounded from beside him. He looked up to see Draco slip into the seat beside him. His friend looked tired. He seemed to have given up on trying to be charming and had merely fallen into a similar fashion as the rest of the boys in the school. This was a real low for him.

"Morning," Blaise muttered back, with the same level of enthusiasm.

Across the table, Potter slipped into his seat, looking just as miserable. Since Weasley's departure from school yesterday afternoon, he had been quiet and moody, upset that his friend would be gone for a month.

"Don't we all look great?" Blaise asked sarcastically. The boys merely grunted in response.

They set in to eating their breakfast rather unenthusiastically, each silent in their own thoughts. When the highest windows opened and the mail was brought in by flocks of screeching owls, neither of them looked up. However, when a small white envelope, with a simple elegant script on the front was dropped in front of Draco's breakfast plate by a large graceful owl, he let out a groan, and the others turned to him with curious expressions.

"What's that?" Potter questioned, inspecting the letter from across the table. He reached out to grab it, but Draco snatched it away quickly.

"It's my father's handwriting," he muttered, running his fingers along the edge of the envelope.

"Well...?" Potter prodded, his own curiosity and impatience causing him to lean across the table. "Open it."

Draco looked reluctant.

"It's probably just an abusive message about the month's detention we received," Blaise suggested, in the hope of relieving his stress.

Draco nodded. "You're probably right."

As he tore open the envelope, neither of the boys noticed the increased chatter around the hall, as students unravelled their copies of the Daily Prophet.

Draco slipped out the simple sheet of parchment, and opened it. He read for a few moments, before Blaise saw him swallow thickly. His hand holding the paper began to shake.

"What is it?" Blaise asked, sensing the anger radiating from Draco's body. Draco didn't reply, but merely scrunched the paper in his hand and left his seat at the table.

Both Potter and Blaise watched him go with confused and concerned expressions.

"I wonder what that was about?" Potter asked with furrowed brows, biting into his bacon. Blaise just shook his head. Everybody seemed to be on edge these days.

He turned his eyes around the hall, and not surprisingly, they immediately fell on Luna. She wasn't looking at him, and instead had an expression of concern on her face as she flicked through the newspaper. Blaise wondered with intense apprehension what would make Luna look so worried, it took a lot. It was then that he noticed similar shocked expressions from those around her, with groups of people reading over the shoulders of those who had a copy of that morning's paper. He frowned.

A few seats down, a first year sat with his friend, flicking through the sports section, obviously having missed the drama. Blaise stood and went to stand next to the boy, who, noticing the shadow, immediately turned to look with a fearful expression.

"Can I borrow this quickly?" Blaise asked in a cordial voice. The boy nodded frantically and practically threw the paper at him, as though he'd threatened bodily harm. Blaise took the newspaper back to his seat and began flicking through it in order to find the cause of the disturbance.

"What the news that everyone's gone nuts over?" Potter asked, noticing how everyone had grabbed or was looking in the paper.

"That's what I'm trying to find," said Blaise opening the paper up fully.

He heard Potter choke across the table, but assumed he'd eaten his breakfast too fast.

"It's Hermione!" The boy spat out, red faced.

"Where?" Blaise said quickly, dropping the paper, and looking up at the door. He couldn't see her. He turned to Potter, who was still coughing, but pointing at the front page of the paper.

Blaise turned to the front, and immediately felt the breath leave his chest at the headline.

'**MUGGLE ATTACK, TWO KILLED'**

There was a large moving picture of Hermione, being carried out of a house on a stretcher, completely unconscious surrounded by Aurors. Or what Blaise _hoped_ was unconscious. He read rapidly through the article, his heart rate increasing when he read the location of the attack, and only relaxing slightly when he discovered she was ok.

He dropped the paper and stared at Potter, who was obviously waiting for an explanation. The Slytherin table was far less worked up about the -incident; however Blaise didn't miss the occasional chuckle that the mudblood had finally gotten what was coming to her.

He ground his teeth as he stood to find Draco, hoping that his letter, and his father, had nothing to do with this.

He made his way as fast as possible down to the dungeons to their dorm clutching the newspaper in his hand, where he hoped Draco would have gone to. He found his friend lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, clutching the letter in his hand. He'd obviously reread it.

"Just leave it, Zabini," Draco muttered, after Blaise had shut the door. Obviously he thought Blaise was here to get him to talk, and normally he would, but right now there were more important things to worry about.

He threw the paper at Draco, causing the other boy to glare at him. "Was your letter to do with this?"

Draco sat up, and fixed the rumpled newspaper, before flicking through it with a blank expression. "What am I supposed to be looking for, Zabini?" He asked in a thoroughly bored voice.

"Front page," Blaise said.

Draco sighed, before closing the newspaper, and staring at the front page. He shot up, staring intently at the photo.

"She- What- What happened?" His face softened into a painful expression as he stared at the photo.

"She's ok, the article says," Blaise told him, realising he hadn't actually read it, but was merely staring at the photo. "I'm guessing that's not what the letter was about then?"

Draco lifted his eyes to Blaise. "No. Why would it be?"

Blaise moved to sit at the end of his bed. "She was staying in the same town as the Manor. Just a few kilometres away, actually. Your father...he would've known she was there."

Draco shook his head, as though he wouldn't hear it. After a moment he stopped and stared at the photo again. "He wouldn't kill-,"

"Don't be naive, mate," Blaise interrupted. "You know as well as I do that he's killed before. Maybe not recently, but during his Death Eater days he would've had no choice. You're his son, the heir to his fortune; Hermione was a threat to all of his plans for you. I know you know I'm right."

Draco sat limply on his bed, staring all the while at Hermione's broken form. "I thought he wouldn't hurt her now. It's over. He has no reason to hurt her!" He threw the newspaper across the room, breathing heavily.

"He would know as well as I do that it's not over between you two. You'd take any opportunity to be with her. You just want her to be safe, and that's admirable, but it only proves just how much you do care, to him, and everyone who knows about it. As soon as that danger's gone, he knows you'll be right back with her."

Draco glanced over at the crumpled remnants of his father's letter. "I know that. I know it all fits together. But do they think it was him?"

Blaise shrugged. "I dunno. It all fits for those of us who know he has a motive, but for the Aurors, it just looks like a random attack, where Hermione happened to be there. You know there are a few wizarding families that live in that area."

"Yeah, and they're all good friends of my fathers," Draco pointed out, "some are ex-Death Eaters who got off persecution claiming they were Imperiused. We all know that's a load of bullshit."

Blaise nodded. It was quite obvious that Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eaters were quite proud of their achievements working alongside Voldemort. It was merely their money and power that had them set free.

"I think we need to talk to Dumbledore," Blaise said, standing. Draco looked alarmed.

"Wait! What do we need to speak to that old coot about?" Draco asked.

"I want to let him know that they should watch your father, that he had a reason to do this, that's if they don't already know. I'm sure Hermione had already pointed the finger at him. I'm actually surprised he wasn't more careful."

Draco looked unsure, and Blaise let out a long sigh. "Don't tell me you're not going to say anything, Draco, because if you do, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

Draco scowled. "It's easy for you to say," he snapped, "this isn't your father and the girl you lo-_like _involved is it?"

Blaise raised a brow at his friends slip of the tongue. "You know, mate, I think from the beginning you knew that you couldn't have the best of both worlds. You knew you couldn't be with Hermione, and still have the same relationship with your family. You knew that being with someone of less than pure blood was an impossible thing for someone of your standing and your name. Stop fucking around and make up your mind! You say you've chosen your family, but I can see quite clearly that you still care about Hermione, and that association with both worlds is what's going to get her killed."

He could have put it more gently he supposed, but he noticed that the only time Draco really listened was when you practically smacked him across the face. The boy in question looked confused, anxious, and full of complete and utter realisation that everything Blaise had said was true.

"Fuck!" He growled in desperation. "I'm not ready to make a decision like this."

"You don't have a choice," Blaise pointed out, reiterating the point by picking up the newspaper and shoving the front page in Draco's face. The boy stared at the image, his eyes glowing with anger and some other emotion Blaise hadn't seen him express before.

"I want," Draco began before pausing and swallowing thickly, "I want Her-,"

They were cut off by the sound of the dormitory door opening suddenly, and Potter racing into the room breathing heavily. They both looked at him expectantly, as he hunched over to regain his breath. He'd obviously run all the way there.

"Well?" Draco asked, his voice full of impatience, "We don't have all day, you git."

"Hermione's back!" Potter breathed.

"What?" Blaise and Draco cried simultaneously. Potter nodded.

"They-they took her to-the Hospital Wing," he paused to take a few breaths, "I tried to get in-but they wouldn't let me- so I ran here."

Draco raced over to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and all but shaking him. "Where's your bloody cloak?"

Potter pointed to his trunk at the end of the bed, where his relatively unused invisibility cloak sat gathering dust. They hadn't needed it much, as most of the prefects would let them wander the halls anyway. It was only the occasional time when Filch or Snape was around that they would bring it just in case.

Draco pulled open the trunk, and began searching through it. After a moment, he pulled out a large piece of silvery fabric and wrapped it around himself.

"Oi, I'm coming!" Blaise cried, racing towards Draco, who was now just a floating head. The blond sighed impatiently before allowing him under the cloak, which was a very tight fit indeed.

"I'll try and cover for you, but that might be difficult, considering we've got McGonagall first," Potter told them.

They both thanked him, knowing that McGonagall would have all of their heads anyway.

The hospital wing was alive with the sound of voices and chatter when they arrived outside the door. They waited until a young Medi-witch exited the room and they slipped through the large oak doors before they closed again. They scanned the bedded room and found the end had been curtained off, where there were a number of St Mungo's staff gathered around. There were also the familiar faces of Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey.

They crept past the empty beds, closer and closer to the sheet until the only thing obstructing there view from Hermione's bed was the crowd of people. It was difficult to make out a single conversation among the group, but they were far too focused on getting a glimpse of Hermione to care about what might be said.

They crept forward further and further, until they were only a few feet away. It seemed that the crowd agreed on something, because they suddenly all turned to leave.

Blaise froze in his steps as Dumbledore's gaze moved over them, and for a moment he panicked that the old man could see through the cloak, but as he merely moved past, he let out a relieved breath. They were invisible, it was ok.

When the group had cleared, they were left in silence, with the sounds of their own heavy breathing echoing louder than ever. However, their attention was caught elsewhere, as the sound of rustling paper came from the place in front of them.

As they moved closer, and closer, still trying to be silent, they were taken aback by the small, petite figure who was seated against the headboard of one of the beds, staring at the news paper. They shared a glance.

"She doesn't look injured at all," Draco whispered, looking annoyed that he had revealed how worried he was for nothing.

Blaise signalled for him to remove the cloak, and with one swift movement they were revealed. Hermione didn't even notice their presence at first, much to Draco's annoyance, as her nose was buried deeply in the newspaper.

It wasn't until Blaise strolled to her bedside, with a lopsided grin, and commented, "I knew you were faking it," That she looked up in alarm, and scooted over to the other side of the bed, which was not as far away as she would have liked, it seemed.

Blaise's smile dropped and he held out his hands in an attempt to settle her.

"I'm sorry, really, I should've realised you'd be jumpy." He said desperately as she clutched at the newspaper like a shield. He heard Draco scoff from behind him, and the boy moved to her other side.

"Don't coddle her, Zabini," he said in a boastful tone, "if you knew Granger like I do, you'd understand that she hates it when you assume she's weak. If she's got her nose stuck in a newspaper, we can assume all is right in the world."

He smirked down at her; she merely stared back, as though she'd never seen him before. Suddenly, she seemed to come to her senses.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" She spat, "Come to torture me? Kick me when I'm down?"

Blaise and Draco stared openly at her with confused expressions, before Draco suddenly furrowed narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, I see. So it's back to _Malfoy_," he mocked her girlish tone on his name. "Don't blame this on me, Granger; you knew you were at risk. Why do you think I did what I did before I left? Yes, I'm ashamed that I didn't stick up for you," he swallowed, before looking away, "but it was because I didn't want something like this to happen. I know you're strong, Granger, you can handle the criticism from people, you've gotten it from me for years, but this is different. I suppose it's like that muggle saying, 'bones and stones', or whatever."

"Sticks and stones," Blaise chimed in, but was silenced at Draco's glare.

"Do you understand?" Draco asked her; it seemed he was desperate for her forgiveness. Like everything depended on it. He reached his hand out and rather reluctantly placed it on hers, in an unusual display of emotion for him.

Hermione, who had been silently staring at him with a queer expression, reared back at his touch. "Get away from me!" She cried, looking thoroughly disgusted. "I don't know what little game you two are playing at, but if you think you can mess with my memories, and make a fool out of me, then you better think again. I still remember you for the foul, loathsome, _evil_ little cockroach you are!"

Draco stepped back, as though physically slapped at the insult. He looked hurt, confused, and shocked. Blaise was much the same. Hermione continued glaring, though she looked slightly fearful at possible retaliation from the pair.

"Just leave me alone. I've put up with your torture far too long. 6 years is condemnation enough."

Blaise opened his mouth to speak, to ask her what was going on, to find out the cause of her odd behaviour, but the sound of a low, authoritative voice behind them stopped any chance of this.

"Come along, boys," Dumbledore ordered, though his voice was rather gentle, as though he knew exactly what the pair were feeling, "Miss Granger needs her rest."

Blaise turned to leave, and Draco did the same a few seconds later, as though he were hoping Hermione would suddenly realise that she was mistaken. She didn't, however, and as soon as they turned, her face was buried back in the newspaper, as though they were only a small insignificant part of her life, not to be thought of for the rest of the day.

"Professer," Blaise began as they walked toward the exit, "Why is she acting like that? She should know us. We're her...friends." He spared a glance at Draco's devastated expression, and knew that to him it was so much more than that.

"You have to understand that Miss Granger has been through a traumatic event, one that will leave her scarred, emotionally and physically. However, right now she has the unfortunate circumstance- or possibly fortunate for her-of not remembering the incident. Due to a memory charm, she doesn't acknowledge anything of these past nine months. To her, it's as if the school year started a week ago."

Blaise stopped in his steps, and turned to look at Draco, who was staring at nothing, though he was obviously listening to the old man. He looked as though he were trying to hold back his emotions, but his expression showed just how devastated he was.

"Right now, I'm exploring options to regain her memory," the old man continued, "not only for her own sake, but for the sake of discovering the perpetrators behind this. My only hope is that it works; until then, the girl you know, and the girl who grew to care for you over these past months," he spared a glance at Draco, who looked away, "is no longer there. She remembers you as the people you were ten months ago, and unfortunately, that is something you must live with until a solution can be found. If one can be found."

Blaise nodded numbly, "Sir, Lucius Malfoy-,"

"We are already looking into all possible suspects, Mr. Zabini, do not worry yourself with such things."

He left the two boys standing outside the hospital wing, looking lost and unsure. When they'd gone there this morning, everything was supposed to be ok, but it wasn't. It was so far from ok.

"I think Dumbledore will find something," Blaise said, as they headed down the staircase. "He's a brilliant wizard; if anyone has a chance at helping her, it's him."

Draco was silent. Blaise wanted badly to give him some hope.

"And even if she doesn't remember soon, you made her fall for you once; you can do it again, right?"

"There's no time," Draco muttered, as they stepped into the entrance hall.

"What do you mean 'no time'? There plenty of time."

"No there isn't, now just leave it, Zabini," Draco warned. They strolled through the dungeons toward the Slytherin Common room.

Blaise furrowed his brow at Draco's lack of enthusiasm. "I understand you're upset, but this is Hermione we're talking about. You can't just give up on this."

Draco was silent, as they entered the dorm, and Blaise was genuinely worried about how he was taking the news.

"Draco?"

"Will you just leave it?" Draco snapped, spinning his body to glare at Blaise. "What do you want me to say? That I'll spend the next ten months trying to get her to look at me with something a little more than disgust or malice? As selfish as it is, I'm not a patient person Zabini, I almost gave up so many times before, but this is different. I'll remember things she doesn't, little things, stupid things I guess, but things she has no knowledge of. I may as well be dead, because to her, I'm just the same old git I always was. I can't recreate what we had. I've waited long enough. I want her _now_, and I still can't have her. Maybe this is the way it's meant to be, because I sure as hell am not going to try again for something else to go wrong. It's not planned for me. It's not going to happen, so just leave it."

He went to move past Blaise, but the Italian grabbed him by the arm and forced him to stop.

"What's going on? Why are you giving up? If there was no hope, Dumbledore would have said it plain and simply so you wouldn't waste your time-,"

"Dumbledore's an old coot who doesn't know what he's doing." Draco spat, his voice full of bitterness. "He doesn't understand. Neither do you. I've lost her, but in the worst way, because I remember every little thing, and she remembers nothing." He let out a wry laugh, though it seemed it was only to cover his distress. "The funny thing is, before she left, when my father found out about us, I thought to myself, wouldn't it be easier if she just forgot about me, and I forgot about her. Like the whole thing never happened. Because I thought she'd be hurt, that she wouldn't give up, that my father would hurt her like he did anyway. It happened, but it hurts more to have her here not knowing what we had, then not having her here at all."

"You don't mean that," Blaise said.

"I do," Draco insisted, with a grimace, "I wish he'd wiped my memory while he was at it. Maybe I'd be able to settle into the future he's planning for me better, instead of pining so pathetically after a girl upstairs who'd hex my bollocks off before letting me come within a foot of her."

"You don't know-,"

"Just drop it, Zabini. It's done. Everything's done." With that he picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulder, before leaving the room quickly, obviously not wanting to talk any longer.

Blaise watched him go, unsurprised at his outburst. He knew he was losing something, so he'd pushed it away first. It was how Draco was, but Blaise couldn't find it in himself to give up the hope that Dumbledore may find a way to restore Hermione's memories. Hope was all he had.

He wondered idly what Draco had meant by having 'no time'. In Blaise's opinion, there was plenty of time considering they still had a whole school year left after this one was done. But then again, maybe it wasn't about that, maybe Draco just couldn't stand to get his hopes up, only to be disappointed. That was something Blaise could understand.

He stood and moved towards his bed to gather his bag, sensing there was nothing to do but head to class. As he stepped towards the door he felt the crunch of paper under his feet, and looking down he saw a crumpled piece of parchment under his shoe. Out of curiosity, and fear that it may be due homework, he picked it up and scanned the page.

He immediately realised that it wasn't anything for him, but instead the letter that was sent to Draco at breakfast that morning. The one that had upset him so obviously. Despite the guilt he felt for invading privacy, Blaise quickly scanned the letter, stopping in his tracks as he read the same sentence over and over.

_Your betrothal to Pansy Parkinson has been arranged. Consider yourself officially engaged._

Blaise crumpled the letter and threw it on the ground, a feeling of intense anger toward the world, and pity toward his friend coming over him. Now he knew exactly what Draco meant. There was no time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Sorry this took so long to get up, I barely have time to eat anymore with work hours and study and all that. I hope this chapter has satisfied you for the time being, and hopefully the next one doesnt take as long to get up. Thank you for being patient.  
><strong>

**Leni  
><strong>


	24. Chapter 24

_**Chapter 24**  
><em>

_****...in which memories and dreams are misinterpreted._

* * *

><p><em>Cloaked in expensive silk, an aristocratic woman made her way toward a man on a busy street in Diagon Alley. She didn't walk for him, however, but basked in the envious stares that came as her presence passed those who were not as lucky to be married to one of the most powerful men in the wizarding world; Draco Malfoy.<em>

_Black shoulder length hair set in stiff, straight strands swayed side to side as she came to perch herself at his side. She didn't spare him a look as she held out her arm regally, waiting for him to take it. He did so bitterly, silently hoping that she would trip on the expensive cloak she had whined for non-stop the previous day until he'd forked out the 1500 galleons for it. This was not love; nothing close to it. This was a marriage for show._

"_We've got lunch reservations, Draco," her unbearable voice told him, as they walked along, "with the Minister and his wife. I told you yesterday, but you were still late, weren't you?" She huffed dramatically._

_He stared ahead, his face blank of expression. He'd long ago learnt to block out the sound of her voice, which was probably the reason he had forgotten about the meeting until a frantic owl had arrived, demanding he apparate there immediately. He had done so, merely because it would not help to get on the Ministers bad side, however, he had no interest in it, really. He had been distracted lately._

"_Pansy, dear," he began in a smooth drawl; one he reserved for those he had no interest for, "I'll be there for lunch, if only for the ministers sake, however, I've got an important errand to run first. Go on ahead, order some expensive wine," he was sure she would anyway, "and I'll be there soon."_

_He pushed her forward, rather impatiently, hoping she would agree. She gave him a stern look, as though she were about to argue, but instead merely huffed again (she did that a lot lately) and walked on. She was soon forgotten to him as she disappeared into the crowd, and he turned swiftly, heading toward his intended destination._

_That destination in question was a small cobbled street in Diagon Alley, with ancient shops lining either side, it was never overly occupied with people, as you only ever went down there when looking for something specific. Draco was._

_It was a small bookshop at the end of the street, cast in shadows. If you didn't look closely, you might not even realise it was there. The windows were dusty and covered in cobwebs, but were displayed with antique volumes that could not be found anywhere else. It was one of the reasons Draco came here frequently. He had never been much for reading, but a rare book was exactly what you needed to distract yourself from a miserable life with a woman you couldn't stand. He supposed there were other motivations, also._

_He entered the shop with a heavy stomach, his heart beating fast and out of rhythm. On the outside, however, he was as cool and as calm as ever. The chime signalled the entry of a customer, and an elderly witch with ragged clothes looked up from her book as she sat on a nearby dusty couch to inspect him. Finding nothing of interest, she looked away a second later._

_He walked through a tall aisle crowded with books, running his finger along the volumes, collecting a thick clump of dust on it as he went. He wasn't really looking at the books, he'd already read half of them, he was merely hoping to prolong the time he would spend in this place. It was his favourite place._

_As he neared the front of the shop, his heart began to speed up, and as he stopped at the front desk, his eyes set on a petite witch with long, unruly curls, who had her head buried in a thick tome. On his arrival, she looked up, and he swore she rolled her eyes._

"_Malfoy," She grunted, placing her book down, but not standing from her place on her stool. He was glad for that._

"_What a nice welcome, Granger," he said in a tone that was hardly unpleasant, if anything, he sounded too enthusiastic to participate in their bickering. He held up his dust covered finger. "You need to care for this place better."_

_Hermione sighed again. "I'm hardly fit for cleaning at the moment, and my assistant is on holidays, so excuse me if your expensive robes got some dust on them. I hope they did." He smirked as she turned her nose away, and began searching through a shelf beside her. He couldn't help but watch her hands; they were so small. He wondered if they were still as smooth as he remembered. It was funny, she had no memory of ever touching him. She'd probably be disgusted now._

_She stood from her seat, picking up a large package and bringing it to him. He grimaced as she sat it down on the counter, giving him a full view of the small bump protruding through her shirt. That was what had changed lately. He could no longer forget she wasn't his, because the evidence of her affections for someone else were right in front of his eyes. She was having a child, and it wasn't his._

"_This one was hard to come by," she said rubbing her stomach idly, completely oblivious to his expression, "it may cost a bit more because of that."_

"_I'll pay whatever it costs," he said quickly, handing her a pouch of galleons, his eyes never leaving her stomach._

_She took it, eyeing him with an odd expression as she went to the till. He was relieved when he wasn't faced with her protruding stomach any longer. However, she returned a second later, and once again it was there._

"_Malfoy," she prodded, snapping his attention back to her frowning face, "your change."_

_He snatched the bag away, causing her to withdraw her hand quickly._

"_Have a pleasant day, Granger," he said stiffly, as he turned and walked away. He couldn't bear to look behind him as he left the shop, the bell chiming as he did so._

_He ran into the hard form of another person as he stepped out onto the street. He was about to give them a mouthful of abuse, until he recognised the familiar features. Olive skin, dark eyes and hair. He groaned inwardly. What was this, a bloody school reunion?_

"_Zabini," he greeted stiffly, moving to pass him. A hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he had to resist the urge to hex the other man._

"_Draco," Blaise spoke, his voice filled with trepidation, but also hope, "I haven't seen you in a while."_

"_I've been busy," Draco responded vaguely, tucking the packaged book under his arm._

_Blaise merely nodded. He knew that wasn't the only reason for Draco's absence over the years. They had once been so close..._

"_You should drop by more often," Blaise began, a hopeful smile on his lips, "You know, to catch up. I know you're a busy man these days, but it would be like old times."_

_Draco almost snorted aloud. 'Old times'. The idiot was fooling himself. He knew the only reason Draco dropped by, and he was always sure he was never there when he did. That was the least he could do._

"_Let's not pretend like we don't hate each other, Zabini," Draco began, shrugging off the other mans heavy hand as it rested on his shoulder, "the past may be the past, but I certainly don't forget."_

_Blaise's smile fell from his lips and he swallowed thickly. "I don't hate you-,"_

"_Of course you don't," Draco snapped, "because you know my existence is a lot less bearable than yours. You just pity me, but you wouldn't put yourself in my place; you wouldn't give up your happiness to allow me to have it, would you? You had your chance to do that long ago, and you didn't."_

_Blaise stood, staring at him for a moment; he knew Draco was right. There was nothing left to say. He was happy, and he wouldn't give it up. "It was good to see you," he said weakly, and he left, entering the bookshop that Draco had just exited._

_Draco stared at the closed door for a moment, grinding his teeth bitterly. The sign on the door taunted him every time he entered it. He wasn't sure why he kept going back to torture himself._

'_Zabini & Family Bookshop'_

_She was his. That horrible thing growing in her stomach was theirs. And he was left to watch their disgustingly perfect lives as he wallowed in his own shitty one. _

Grey eyes opened abruptly as they awakened to reality. Draco lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, his breathing heavy from the left-over anger that remained from his dream. Or was it a dream?

Dreams were usually strange. There was nothing unusual or absurd about this. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was being ridiculous.

However, in the back of his mind he couldn't help but wonder whether it was a dream, or a premonition.

* * *

><p>Hermione took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror of her dorm. She looked so different. For obvious reasons, she supposed, since she could only remember seeing the reflection of herself from the beginning of the year. It was just strange to see such a drastic change.<p>

Her hair was longer, just past her shoulders; her weight seemed to have decreased slightly. She wondered if that had to do with the stress of study or something else. Her cheeks seemed to also hold a flush they never did before, she was curious about that too. Overall, she not only looked different, but she felt it too.

She was paranoid to attend her first classes since her release from the hospital wing, like people would stare at these noticeable changes. She had to keep reminding herself that they remembered her; it was merely her who didn't remember things.

She adjusted her tie once more, before picking up her bag and slinging it across her shoulder. She re-entered the bedroom to find Lavender and Parvarti awake and chatting from their places on their beds as they got ready. As she entered the room, the chatter stopped abruptly, and she was confronted with two identical scowls.

She swallowed thickly, and darted out the door, frantically wondering what could have caused such a reaction. Sure, she had never gotten along with the two girls, but it had never been that bad. They had stayed out of each others' way, not been so blatantly horrible.

It was a similar situation in the corridors and the staircase. People who had not once glanced at her before were staring openly, some with expressions of interest, others with expressions of hatred. She understood the interest; they would have heard about her attack in the paper. It was not unusual to be curious. But what she didn't understand were the hateful stares. Sure, she was a target for the Silver Marauders, a loser, a misfit, but never in her whole school life had she been paid so much mind. Maybe something else had happened...

"Hermione!" A familiar and comforting voice called from behind her. She almost raced to Neville's side as he came toward her, looking out of breath, and sending wary looks at those around her. She wondered whether he was scared for her safety around them, or if he knew something about the nature of their clear dislike.

"I was going to walk with you," Neville said, as he led her through the crowd of students on the stairs. "Dumbledore gave me the job of helping you adjust. He doesn't want you to be overwhelmed."

Hermione frowned. Despite their concerns, she couldn't help but worry why everything seemed so different. Had time really changed that much?

"Neville," she began, grasping his arm and halting his steps, "did something happen? Other than what I know already? Things just seem...different." She swallowed, looking away from a particularly nasty glare and back to his concerned face.

He gnawed his lip, a sure sign that he was hiding something, before sighing.

"I'm not supposed to tell you." He said quietly. "Dumbledore said not to overwhelm you on your first day back. He wants to wait until your meeting with him tonight, to try and help you remember it yourself, or at least tell you in a way that won't freak you out. He said it would be too much to dump it all on you at once."

"Dump _what_?" She asked, the panic rising in her stomach. What could possibly be that horrible? He looked away.

"_Neville."_

He didn't speak for a moment, and she was certain he was going to crack. "It's breakfast." He said quickly, and continued walking. Hermione gaped. Normally Neville would crack instantly after she took that tone with him. She gave chase.

"Neville Longbottom, you tell me what's going on this instance!" She hissed, racing after him, while trying to avoid drawing too much attention to them.

He ignored her successfully all the way down the staircase, and to the Great Hall, where he entered swiftly, leaving her breathless and rather dishevelled at the prospect of what horrible event she was forgetting. Perhaps it was best that she forgot, but her curiosity and intense urge for knowledge didn't seem satisfied by that, so she followed him in the doors, determined for an explanation.

She almost faltered in her steps when she saw an odd sight. Neville was at the Gryffindor table, talking in hushed tones with none other than Ginny Weasley. What was _that _about? She walked over and slowly sat on Neville's other side.

The red-head, noticing her presence, looked up and gave Hermione a large smile, one that had her feeling like a rabbit caught in headlights. What was going on here...?

"Hi, Hermione," Ginny said brightly, "How are you feeling?"

Hermione eyed Neville, who was looking awkward as usual, before replying. "I feel fine."

That was a lie. She felt moody, tired, and sick of the odd looks people were sending her. She also felt some empty void inside her, like something was horribly missing. However, she tried filling that void with an extra scoop of scrambled eggs on her plate, as she desperately attempted to ignore Ginny's eyes staring into the side of her head, and that horribly exaggerated smile on her face.

"I can tell when you're lying, Hermione," Ginny said in a sing-song voice, nibbling at a piece of toast. Hermione fixed her expression, before turning her head to look at the girl who, in all of Hermione's knowledge, she hadn't spoken two words to in her time at Hogwarts.

"Obviously you're confused, but we were actually friends, til you forgot, that is." The red-head stated. Hermione stared at her for a moment, waiting for the punch line, but none came. She turned to Neville. His face was as serious as Ginny's as he nodded.

Hermione frowned. "No offence, Ginny...but what could we possibly have in common?"

A rather pleasant bell-like chime escaped Ginny's lips as she laughed, her head tilting back, her hair flowing around her face. She sighed happily.

"Oh, you wouldn't want to know," she said after a moment, biting into her toast and staring off across the room rather oddly.

On the contrary, Hermione did want to know. Very badly, actually.

"Are you and Neville...together?" She asked, wondering if that was the connection between them.

Neville immediately began choking on his eggs, while Ginny guffawed again at his reaction. After a moment she shook her head.

"No, we're not." Ginny told her. "He's too nice for me. You see, I only make bad decisions. Plus, he's dating a rather lovely Hufflepuff girl."

They politely ignored Neville's blush. At least that hadn't changed about him. Hermione couldn't say she was interested in Ginny Weasley's love life at the present moment, and she saw Neville was embarrassed, so she merely moved on.

"I do want to know." She stated. "Does it have something to do with what Neville won't tell me?"

They shared a look, and she knew it did.

"Tell me." She ordered, trying to sound as authoritative as possible.

"I told you, Hermione," Neville said, strongly, "Dumbledore specifically told me not to. He wants to wait."

Hermione huffed as she spotted the older man at the head table, chatting amicably to his neighbours. "Why is it that this piece of knowledge about _my_ life is being kept from me?"

Ginny nibbled her toast casually. "I suppose he just doesn't want you to have some sort of mental break down."

Hermione's head whipped around to face her companions, but they were ignoring her in favour of their breakfast. What could possibly be that bad?

* * *

><p>"Would you hurry up?" Blaise whined, as he eyed the clock on the bedroom wall. "You've been in there for half an hour, Draco!"<p>

Potter sighed impatiently from his own bed, while tossing a toy quaffle in the air, clearly mirroring Blaise's sentiments. Draco had been hiding away in the bathroom all morning, and they were late for breakfast.

"He's acting weird," Potter noted, "which isn't exceptionally unusual for him, but still. He's clearly freaking out."

Blaise scoffed. "You would be too if you had Pansy Parkinson announcing your engagement all over the school." He pulled a face. Poor bloody Draco.

Potter murmured in agreement, before speaking. "Do you think it's just that though? Granger's probably going to be back in classes today. I mean, you saw how he was after that reaction in the hospital wing. She doesn't want a bar of him, and now he'll have Pansy on his back constantly. It's enough to make someone want to jump off the astronomy tower."

"Is that what you're planning to do because of your heartbreak over Weasley's absence?" Blaise asked, smirking. In all actuality, he was trying to take the subject away from things that would only depress Draco further.

Potter scowled. "Very funny, you git. I'll admit though, it's weird not having him around for a whole week. He hasn't written yet..."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll receive a love letter today," Blaise chuckled, receiving a toy quaffle thrown at his face. Before he could retaliate however, the bathroom door swung open, and a scowling blond entered the room.

"Aren't you a little ray of sunshine," Potter commented with a grin, standing and swinging his bag over his shoulder.

He was effectively silenced from further commentary by a rather deadly look from Draco, who merely picked up his bag and left the room.

"Well this should be an interesting day," Potter muttered, as they followed behind him.

Pansy, who had been impatiently waiting in the common room all morning, jumped out of her seat upon seeing Draco on his way out. She all but pounced on him, grabbing his arm and entwining hers around it, before beginning chatter about the _Wedding Witch _magazine her mother had sent her last week. She seemed oblivious to the shade of red Draco's cheeks had turned, and how he seemed to be close to having an aneurysm merely from the sound of her voice.

Instead, she continued her inane, non-stop chatter all the way to the Great hall, basking in the way many girls stared enviously at the sparkling ring on her finger. A ring which was sent by Draco's father on the day they were officially engaged. It was his great grandmother's ring, and Blaise knew it disgusted Draco to have her wear the valuable heirloom on her finger.

"-traditional would be better, don't you think? Your mother would probably prefer it. My mother, too. However, it is my wedding and ultimately I can do what I want. Millicent thinks I should be more modern, since I'll be in the social pages of the Daily prophet and all the fanciest wedding magazines-"

Blaise and Potter shared a look.

"Does she ever shut up?" Blaise questioned rhetorically.

"She did once," Potter replied looking thoughtful, "but I think she may have actually just fallen asleep."

Blaise snorted. It must've been the only explanation.

* * *

><p>As they entered the Great hall, Blaise's eyes wandered over to the Gryffindor table, where he found Ginny, Neville, and Hermione eating their breakfast. The latter looked severely uncomfortable, and he assumed she was struggling to adjust to Ginny. He didn't blame her.<p>

He looked up and found that Draco had not spared a single glance at the table. But it looked as though it took a lot of effort. However, the constant chatter in his ear was probably a good distraction.

Ten minutes passed, and the tension within the small group was building. Pansy's presence had left them all on edge and feeling annoyed, however, none more so than Draco.

He reached for the bacon, only to have Pansy stop him and fling it off his plate.

"You can't eat that, Drakey, you have to stay in shape for the wedding." She instead handed him an apple. In an amazing feat of self control, he took a deep breath and merely bit into the fruit.

Blaise and Potter shared a wary look.

The owl post arrived some moment's later, and a thick envelope dropped in front of Potter. He snatched it up, recognising the messy handwriting as Weasley's immediately.

Upon reading the letter, his face displayed a number of emotions. Shock, happiness, sadness, and great amusement. Blaise had to admit, he was curious.

"What does it say?" he asked the bespectacled boy. Potter cleared his throat and began to read.

"Hi Harry (and Zabini and Malfoy who I'm sure are reading over your shoulder)," he chuckled.

"Hope things are going well there, and you aren't in too much trouble from Snape. I never thought I'd say this, but I'd prefer to be in detention with the dungeon bat then here; mum's been gnawing my ear off for the last week about the incident. I think I might lose it soon. I still have to do school work, too. McGonagall's been sending homework and lessons every couple of days, curse the old bat." Potter chuckled again.

"Anyway, I'll tell you the interesting news. You know how my father works in the Muggle-related division of the Ministry? Well it seems he was involved in the case of that muggle girl; the one who Hermione was staying with when she was attacked."

Blaise glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Draco look down at his plate. He was still blaming himself for the incident.

"Her names Emily Myers, she's the same age as us. Quite sad that she lost her whole family, really. Anyway, it seems that the memory charm she was put under, they've been having a bit of trouble lifting. She's been in St Mungo's the last few days, and they've been trying everything. Dad said the only options they had were to let her stay there, or take her to a muggle institution where they send Loony people. They probably would have done that, dad said, except it seems that their fiddling with her memories has backfired."

"They think Hermione told her about being a witch, and Hogwarts, and the Wizarding world, because she's now convinced that _she's_ a witch. She's been saying all these things about Hogwarts, trying to perform spells, the only problem is that she can't..."

"However, to solve that problem, they told her she was a squib. Apparently she was incredibly upset for a few days, but then accepted it when my father offered to let her visit the house. I'm surprised the Ministry allowed it, though I think they're hoping the problem will go away, even if they have to let her live as a 'squib' in the wizarding world."

Draco snorted from across the table. Potter continued.

"They let her visit the house the other day. I was here, obviously. She spent the whole time making me do magic, and occasionally helping mum make potions. She's good at it, actually. She obviously can't use magic, but she's very good at chopping, and preparing ingredients. Mum said it's a natural talent. I think she's being ridiculous. A bloody muggle does not have a natural talent for potions. It's bloody ridiculous! She's visiting again tomorrow, unfortunately. So I'm going to make sure I'm not here. Might go for a ride on my broom or something, just so I don't feel like a clown when she demands I do magic. She's quite bossy."

Potter and Blaise chuckled.

"Dad says we should be nice to her, because if she can't blend in well, they have no choice but to send her to a muggle institution where she'll be locked up in a room and swept under the carpet, especially since the Ministry is the only thing stopping the muggles from charging her with the murder of her parents. I say send her there, though. She's bloody annoying! Who cares if it'd be unethical to wipe her memory again? She's not a bloody witch! Or even a squib! I'm sure Hermione would be in a lot of trouble if she could ever remember telling her all this."

Blaise eyed Draco carefully; he was no longer listening, but Pansy was.

"Anyway, I have to go, mum's making me de-gnome the garden today. This is bloody ridiculous.

Ron."

"Well," Blaise began, "that's an interesting turn of events."

Potter nodded. "I know."

"It's typical that the Gryffindor know-it-all would brag about being a witch." Pansy scoffed, "It's probably the only way she could get that muggle to talk to her."

Blaise looked up to see how Draco would react to such a comment. His cheeks had grown pinker, and his jaw was tense. Blaise caught his eye, and Draco turned his attention to his breakfast, where he picked up a slice of bacon and began monotonously chewing on it.

"Draco!" A loud shriek came from the unwanted occupant among them, "What did I just say about eating all that bacon? We aren't married yet-"

And Blaise swore he saw the exact second that Draco snapped.

"If I had my own way we wouldn't be marrying at all!" Draco's voice boomed across the table. It managed to effectively silence the occupants of the Great Hall, with the occasional clatter of cutlery as they stared at the scene at the Slytherin table.

Draco stood and picked up his bag, eyeing Pansy with distaste.

"Did you honestly think I would want to spend my life with _you_? I can't stand you! I'd rather be disowned then listen to your constant nagging. _Death_ would be more pleasant than that."

He strode out of the great hall quickly, not meeting anyone's eyes as he did.

Blaise and Potter stared on in shock, as Pansy sat across from them looking mortified, her bottom lip beginning to shake as she stood and ran after the boy she was sure she would marry since her first day at school. To her, it was a small bump in the road, and she was determined to smooth it out.

* * *

><p>Hermione let out a chuckle as Draco stormed out of the Great Hall. It was funny to see him so upset, especially after all he'd done to her. It was twice as satisfying to see Pansy upset, too; however, she couldn't shake an odd feeling within her about the incident. Like perhaps finding amusement was the wrong reaction.<p>

She had to admit, she'd thought about the incident in the hospital wing a number of times since then. The Silver Marauders, well, half of them, had come to talk to her. And the funny thing was, it hadn't been to taunt or be cruel. She felt embarrassed even thinking such a ridiculous thought, but it almost seemed like they _liked_ her. She furrowed her brow as she stared at the back of Blaise Zabini's head. That couldn't possibly be right. Why did it even matter?

She sighed, and turned to ask Neville whether she could borrow his notes for some of their classes, after all, it was part of what she couldn't remember. However, as she turned her head, she found both Neville and Ginny eyeing her with queer expressions. She looked between them for a moment, before swallowing thickly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked self consciously, "Is there something on my face?"

Ginny shook her head, still looking at her strangely. "No, you look fine. It's just, well, you found that funny?"

She motioned to the Slytherin table, where the scene between Draco and Pansy had just taken place. Hermione swallowed again, feeling confused.

"Shouldn't I have found it funny? It's Malfoy we're talking about here; if he get's stuck with a lifetime of servitude to Pansy, it would be justice, wouldn't it?" She chuckled, however they didn't, and it died in her throat. What was their problem? She wasn't being that _mean_, was she?

"Wow," Ginny said in awe, before turning to Neville and whispering, "It's like it never happened. This could be good for her."

Neville nodded. "I know. That's why I don't want her to know-,"

"Um, excuse me," Hermione interrupted, feeling annoyed, "I _am_ sitting right here, and I can hear everything you say."

They turned to her, as though they'd completely forgotten she was, in fact, right there.

"Sorry, Hermione," Neville apologised, looking sheepish, "It's just, well, you don't understand how good this is for you."

She furrowed her brow. "How is this possibly good, Neville? I can't remember the last few months of my life. How is that _anything_ close to good?" Was he nuts?

"You'd understand if you knew, but what if those months weren't that great?" Ginny explained, "What if it's your best interest to forget them?"

Hermione couldn't believe what they were saying. They thought having a large portion of her life, her knowledge, her experiences, just disappear, was _good_?

"Do you hear yourself?" Hermione asked, talking more to Neville. She didn't like how he was acting so..._chummy_ with someone Hermione had always thought to be quite snobby.

"It sounds crazy, and unthoughtful-," Ginny began quickly.

"You're certainly right, it does," Hermione shot back, standing from her seat at the table and swinging her bag over her shoulder, before striding out the door. He didn't want to listen to them any longer.

* * *

><p>Blaise had been watching the altercation with interest from across the room, and when he saw Hermione's quick exit, he followed shortly after, intent to catch up with her. The entrance hall was empty when he entered it, and he looked up to find her climbing the stairs slowly, looking annoyed still. He was curious what that was about. However, he knew she didn't remember their friendship, and she most likely wouldn't tell him.<p>

Despite that, he raced up the stairs after her, and when he reached her on the first floor landing, he slid ahead of her and blocked her from going further. It was odd and hurtful to see the expressions of shock, then annoyance, then fear cross her face in quick succession as she backed up and looked warily around like she expected his friends to pounce any second.

He almost rolled his eyes.

"I'm not trying to bait you, Hermione," he said with a sigh. He didn't like how she seemed so...on edge.

She looked him over for a second. "Why would I believe anything you say? In fact, why are you even _speaking_ to me?"

He shrugged, fighting the urge to smirk. "You can hold a good conversation when you want to, I suppose."

The expression of shock on her face was priceless, and he almost cracked his cool demeanour.

"We've had a conversation?" She asked warily, looking as though the mere idea were unthinkable.

He smirked. "Many."

She looked as though it were some equation that was impossible to comprehend; he supposed for her it was. No matter how much she wracked her memory, though, she wouldn't remember.

"I don't believe you," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly, despite her nervous stance, "you tried to fool me the other day in the hospital wing, too. I'll have you know, no matter what you try to lie to me about, I have other people to tell me the truth."

He raised a brow, interested in what her friends would have told her about the last few months. "And what have they told you?"

She stood strong for a long moment, before sighing. "Nothing. They won't tell me anything."

He nodded, unable to fight his annoyance. Of course they hadn't.

"That doesn't surprise me," he said, leaning against the banister and shoving his hands into his pockets, "I'm sure they love that you can forget all that stuff."

She sighed moodily. "What stuff? People keep talking about 'stuff' but I won't know until they explain to me what it is!"

He raised his brows at her outburst. Maybe the feisty Hermione she'd come to be wasn't gone completely; or maybe, and more likely, she had always been like that, and he'd never seen it while he and his friends were busy crushing her spirit.

He felt a well of guilt appear in his stomach, and somehow to make up for him mistakes in the past, he would help her now.

"You cared about someone," he said vaguely, not wanting to shock her by blurting out all the gory details at once. "He was someone you probably would never consider now, but you cared about him. You loved him, I think." He swallowed thickly. Despite the fact that it wasn't even _his_ emotions he was speaking about, it felt difficult to talk so freely about love.

"He cared about you, too. A lot. Enough to go against everything for you." He explained, staring at her wide-eyed expression. "A lot of people, including your friends, thought it was a bad idea. They're just trying to protect you, but you have a right to know, just so all those feeling don't go to waste. He still loves you, Hermione."

She stared at Blaise as he explained what she had tried to get Neville to explain to her. No wonder he didn't.

"Oh," she said, turning her expression to the floor. "Well, thank you, but I don't feel the same way about..._him_."

Blaise furrowed his brow, missing her odd tone completely. "How would you know that if you don't remember?" He fought strongly. "This is killing me."

He was becoming frustrated. It was like as soon as something went right, something else went wrong. Draco was finally going to do something about his feelings for Hermione, and just to make an inconvenient situation even worse, she had to go and forget everything. Fate really was an asshole.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, "but if what you're saying is true, and I'm still questioning whether it is, it's just not the same if I don't remember."

The bell rang at that moment, and Blaise stared at her in thought, wondering if he should tell her who it was that she was supposed to have been in love with. Would it make her faint, though? There was a highly likely chance it would, and she'd probably fall down the stairs. Either that or she'd hex him into small pieces. Neither were good options.

Maybe he should wait a while; let the idea process, then spring it on her one day in the library. The floors there weren't so hard that she'd hurt herself badly if she did indeed faint, and she wouldn't dare hex him for fear of invoking a ban from her favourite place of all. He wasn't a patient man, but he supposed it was his only option, and he was determined after he saw how miserable Draco had been that morning. He just wanted them to be happy; why was it so damn hard?

Hermione stared on nervously, as Blaise stood thinking while still staring at her with intense concentration. She could hear the sound of footfalls on the stairs below, and knew she ought to get to Transfiguration, especially since she had a lot of catching up to do.

Finally, Blaise Zabini seemed to come to some decision, he abruptly stood off the banister and smiled. "Well have a nice day, Hermione."

He left her staring after him with a confused expression on her face. Why was everyone around this place so _weird?_

She hoped that would be the last of _that_ little conversation, as she readjusted her bag and continued up the stairs. It was odd to expect her to remember something as big as _being in love._ She was the last person who would fall in love. Wasn't she? Despite her logic trying to make sense of everything, the idea had already found a comfortable spot in her brain, to sit and torture her for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>Dinner time came around quickly, and as Blaise washed up and made his way to the Great hall, he noticed a pair of blue eyes watching him as he went. He hadn't seen Luna all day, and he was curious as to where she had been during breakfast and lunch.<p>

He made his way over to the place she was standing, and couldn't help but smile at her doe-eyed expression.

"Hello, Blaise," she greeted in her chime-like voice.

"Hi," he returned, eyeing the radish earring hanging from her small ears. "Where've you been all day? I didn't see you at breakfast or lunch."

She smiled. "I've taken to eating lunch in the kitchens, the company of the house-elves is exceedingly more pleasant then my housemates at the moment."

Blaise's expression hardened. "Are they bullying you again?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure if it is bullying. Sometimes I think it's they're way of mucking around, except I'm the only one who doesn't find it funny. Maybe I should just relax more-,"

"You shouldn't have to do anything, Luna," Blaise said fiercely, "Who is it? Give me names and they'll wish they never crossed you."

She shook her head. "No, no, this is something I have to deal with myself-,"

"Hiding in the kitchens is not dealing with it, Luna!" He said, exasperated. He immediately regretted raising his voice, but instead of a hurt expression on her face, he found her smiling at him with a knowing expression.

"Thank you for caring," she said, "It means more than you think."

He swallowed thickly. "I'll always care."

She smiled again. "That's why you're friends are lucky to have you; that reminds me, you should speak to Draco when you get a chance."

Blaise furrowed his brow. "Draco? Why do you say that?"

"I spoke to him this morning," she explained, "he seemed on edge. I think I set him straight though."

"He spoke to you?" Blaise asked, surprised. That was odd; Draco hadn't taken a liking to Luna. He thought she was crazy, like so many other stupid people.

"It was to ask a specific question," she told him, "because I do Divination. He was wondering about a dream he had."

"A dream?" Blaise questioned. Why would Draco care about something as meaningless as a dream?

"He wanted to know what it meant...You were in it."

Blaise was suddenly nervous. "What was it about?"

Luna looked thoughtful, before speaking. "It might be a breach of confidentiality if I tell you."

Blaise stared at her incredulously. "Luna, please, do you think that matters? If it's bothering him and it relates to me I need to know. Do you really think he's going to tell me himself?"

Luna bit her lip, looking thoughtful. "...I suppose not."

"So what was it about?" Blaise prodded once more.

Luna hesitated. "He had a dream that you and Hermione were married in the future; she was having your child. That when she'd lost her memory, you two had somehow ended up together, and you wouldn't give her up for him to have her. It was rather straight-forward, really."

Blaise was frowning by the end of her explanation. "What's straight-forward?"

"I merely told him that in the dream, it may not really be _you_ that you were representing, but merely the person he strives to be but falls short."

Blaise stared at her blankly, and she smiled.

"Basically, he see's you as the complete opposite of him, or the person he tries to be, anyway. The dream was showing him that deep down he knows that if he continues on his current path, he's not going to get anything close to the happiness he wants. However, he needs to become the person he's suppressing; the person that Hermione probably only ever saw. The person that's more like you. I suppose that's why you were in the dream. He was extremely paranoid that it was a premonition."

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "A premonition? I don't see Hermione like that at all. I would never do that."

Luna smiled. "Why are you telling _me_ this?"

Blaise faltered. "Well..I...you...I was just saying."

She laughed; a short, pleasant sound. "Go and tell _Draco_, Blaise; he's rather worried."

Blaise sighed. "I shouldn't have to constantly reassure him of this stuff. He's my best mate, it should be a given that I wouldn't."

Luna gave him a pitying smile. "I understand that, but put yourself in his shoes, Blaise. The people he should be able to trust the most, his family, are the ones who he can't trust. Can you really blame him for being more paranoid than the average person? I don't think he walks around expecting everyone to be lovely to him, like everyone may think he does, he's waiting for them to stab him in the back. It's probably why he's so nasty to people who don't deserve it. Why be nice when they're going to hurt you anyway?"

Blaise sighed. Luna was right. Despite what people thought, Draco was insecure and paranoid. It was ridiculous, but it was part of who he was.

"Ok, I'll go talk to him." He conceded after a moment, "It doesn't make a difference though, I spoke to Hermione this morning, and she doesn't want anything to do with any of us."

"I believe that Dumbledore will figure something out." Luna said confidently, "In the mean time, you need to ensure that Draco doesn't go back to his old ways. He needs to be the person Hermione fell in love with when she remembers again."

"_If_ she remembers." Blaise added. Luna frowned.

"Be hopeful, Blaise, at least for him."

He merely nodded.

It was hard to be hopeful for Draco when he held little hope himself.

Draco was absent all dinner, and when Blaise returned to the dungeons he found Draco in the Slytherin dorms, gathering his books for their detention that night. His movements were slow, and unenthusiastic. Blaise was sure it had nothing to do with the detentions they were forced to attend for their incident with Nott, and more about other things.

Blaise walked to his own bed and sat down, unsure how to broach any sort of conversation with the teen while he looked as though he may snap any minute.

"I spoke to Luna," he blurted out, and immediately grimaced at his lack of tactfulness. Draco's froze for a moment, his back toward Blaise, before he continued gathering his things.

"Good for you," he said in a bland, monotone voice.

"Blaise sighed tiredly. "Why didn't you just tell me? Did you really have to go and find someone who knows about Divination to tell you whether it was a premonition?"

"It's none of your business, Zabini," Draco muttered, slinging his bag across his shoulder and exiting the room.

Blaise hastily grabbed his own bag and gave chase. He caught up to Draco in the dungeon corridor.

"It is my business, mate. You're being resentful towards me over something I haven't done; something I'd never do!"

Draco scoffed, and continued walking. Blaise stayed by his side.

"You know I'm the last thing you have to worry about when it comes to Hermione."

Draco paused abruptly. "Would you just leave it, Zabini? I'm sick of talking about it. I'm sick of being reminded. I just want to move on."

Blaise gave him a disbelieving look. "You keep telling me and Potter you want to forget about it, but you seem to be lying. Why else would you bother to talk to Luna?"

Draco shrugged. "Curiosity."

"Oh, bullshit." Blaise snapped, "You're as hopeful as anyone that she'll remember again, you're just scared to acknowledge it out loud, because it will hurt more if she doesn't."

Draco didn't respond, but merely stopped in front of the potions classroom. Blaise knew he had nothing to say to contradict the argument. It was true. Acknowledging his feelings for Hermione would hurt more now; and pain was something Draco Malfoy was an expert at avoiding. However, in blocking it out, he blocked out other things.

Blaise decided to leave it at that, not wanting to push him any further. It wouldn't make a difference, as no matter what he said, there was one variable that everything else depended on: Hermione's memories. Without them, it would all be for nothing.

* * *

><p>Hermione eyed the odd contraptions that were spinning and sparkling on the shelves in Professor Dumbledore's office. She had only been in here a handful of time's, but she could never stop herself from staring like it was her first time seeing all the fascinating objects.<p>

So caught up in her perusal, she had forgotten about the old man seated in front of her until he cleared his throat lightly, a small smile on his face.

Hermione immediately turned to him, feeling embarrassed by her rudeness in front of such an intimidating man.

"Sorry, sir." She apologised, flushing slightly.

He chuckled, his half-moon spectacle glinting. "Do not be sorry, Miss Granger, I'm glad to see you haven't lost that spark. That intense curiosity and need for knowledge. It's refreshing to see in a witch your age."

Hermione flushed again at the compliment. "Thank you, sir."

"Now, I'm sure you know why you're here. The mind is a complicated maze, and you may have trouble unravelling it yourself, which is where I come in. I'm sure you're knowledgeable on the techniques of Legilimency?" Dumbledore questioned.

Hermione nodded. "Yes...so you're going to explore my thoughts?" She asked, feeling rather nervous at the prospect of all the embarrassing things he might see.

"Essentially, yes. You're thoughts are rather like a cramped room filled with boxes. It's easy to forget about one that is hidden away. I'm going to attempt to find your missing thoughts. Now, Miss Granger, before we begin, I want to warn you that what I'm trying has not been done before. There is no guarantee that it will be effective."

Hermione nodded. "I understand that, sir."

"Now, for my own knowledge, have any of your friends informed you of memories you may have forgotten?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "A couple. That I was friends with Ginny Weasley...and...in love with someone." She finished awkwardly. "I'm sure that one's not important though."

Dumbledore eyed her thoughtfully for a moment, and she wondered what was going through his head.

"Very well," he said after a moment. "Let us begin."

He instructed Hermione to move over to a large arm chair on the other side of the room, where she sat down hesitantly, her arms gripping the sides.

"Relax, Miss Granger, and prepare yourself. _Legilimens!"_

She was immediately swept into darkness, before the first memory appeared.

_She was storming off at breakfast, feeling angry and jealous of Neville's friendship with Ginny_. _Her breathing was heavy, and she felt betrayed._

The memory was too recent and Dumbledore moved on.

_She was 10 years old. Professor McGonagall sat on the opposite sofa to her and her parents, explaining to her the world that awaited her. She was staring at her pointy hat, wondering how the woman hat fit through the door..._

Too early.

_She was 14, making her way to Potions with Neville. Draco Malfoy barged past her, causing her books to fall. "Filthy, ugly, mudblood." He hissed at her with a scowl. She swallowed thickly as she tried to control the tears..._

Too early.

_She was 16. She and Neville were playing chess by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room..._

Too early.

_She was 17, hanging upside down in the prefects bathroom, being dunked repeatedly as the sound of laughter was heard around her. She spotted Draco Malfoy and his friends as she hung upside down, before he flung her back down into the icy water below. She couldn't breathe, she was choking. She needed air. She needed air, now._

She awoke in a daze on the floor of Dumbledore's office. The old man was kneeling beside her, looking concerned. "You blacked out, Miss Granger. Come, sit down."

He helped her onto the arm chair she had been occupying, and she sat limply. She was covered in beads of sweat, and her heart was racing. Her whole body was shaking.

"That incident was the last memory I could explore," he said solemnly, before eyeing her. "Why did you never inform the staff of it?"

Hermione stared at her clammy hands. "I don't know."

She couldn't explain why she had never told anyone of the multiple times Draco Malfoy had hurt her.

Dumbledore frowned. "What do you think of the memories you've been told? Particularly the one about being in love."

Hermione bit her lip. "It's odd. To be told things and not remember them at all. I don't think I would've been in love. Not with someone that despicable_._"

She assumed Dumbledore would know who she was speaking about; she was sure most people knew. It was probably the reason for the scowls and filthy looks she was receiving from the female population of the school.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "So you know about your relationship with Mr-,"

"There was no relationship. And if there was I must have been tricked. I wouldn't be in love with someone horrible."

She didn't want to talk about it anymore. It was bizarre and uncomfortable.

Dumbledore stood quietly for a moment. "I feel this may be a lot to take in. Perhaps we should continue this another time. Go and get some rest, Miss Granger."

She nodded. The thing was, she was unsure if she even wanted to remember, now.

She found the common room relatively empty when she entered the Fat lady's portrait, and she assumed most people had gone to bed. That was her plan, too; however, she heard her name called by a familiar voice. She turned to find Neville sitting in the corner of the room, Ginny was beside him. They were playing chess.

A large swell of annoyance hit Hermione. He had always played chess with her. Did Ginny Weasley think she could just, well, _weasel_ her way into their friendship?

She made her way over to them reluctantly. "Hi," she said to Neville rather stiffly.

He frowned. "You're angry with us. I can understand why, but you have to see it from our perspective, Hermione. We just want you to be happy. And not knowing about certain things will be best for you-,"

She scoffed. "I already know, Neville! Blaise Zabini spoke to me this morning."

Ginny groaned. "Of course he did."

Hermione was losing her patience with this girl. Who did she think she was, butting into Hermione's business?

"Well I'm glad _someone_ told me, I have a right to know. I'm hurt that you thought I couldn't handle something like that."

Neville nodded. "Of course you could, but can you tell me you feel any better knowing you fell for someone that despicable?"

"That's beside the point, Neville," she shot back, "The point is someone I believe I despise told me something I thought my best friend would."

Ginny stood, placing her hand on Hermione's arm. "Hermione, we were just trying to help you-,"

She shook Ginny's hand off. "There is no 'we', Ginny. As far as I'm concerned, we are not friends. I don't know you, so don't try to influence my behaviour or my life. I don't want your advice."

The younger girl looked shocked at Hermione's rebuff, and immediately turned to Neville. He was staring at Hermione with a pleading expression.

"Please don't be angry, Mione-,"

"No, Neville." She interrupted. "When you feel like doing something that actually helps me, then come talk to me. Until then, have fun with your new friendship."

It was immature, and rather childish, and extremely unlike her. However, she couldn't help it. Things had changed and she hadn't changed with them.

She turned on the spot and strode to her room. When she reached her bed, she pulled the curtains around and cast a silencing charm. Immediately, she gave in to her emotions and felt hot tears running down her cheeks, as her body shook uncontrollably.

She felt alone. Like nobody seemed to know her; not even Neville.

Ironically, the only person who had seemed to care had been Blaise Zabini. He had been honest. She supposed that was no surprise, considering what he had told her.

She rolled onto her side, letting the tears fall onto the pillow.

Maybe it wasn't so ridiculous. Maybe she had been in love with Blaise Zabini.

Either way, the thought of loving one of her most hated enemies sickened her. She wondered what the hell had happened for that to occur. Had they met in the library, and struck up a conversation? Had they been partnered together on an assignment?

It was odd to think that someone who was close friends with Draco Malfoy, a boy who despised her with all his being, would be willing to date someone of her social and blood standing. She rolled over feeling frustrated.

It was annoying that she had no answers to these questions, and no one willing to answer them.

A sudden thought hit her, and she felt like she was betraying her own dignity by even considering it, however, she was desperate. Perhaps tomorrow she would seek out Blaise and question him. No doubt he would be willing to tell, especially if he still loved her like he had said in his ridiculously corny third-person speech earlier that day.

She grimaced. How could she have possibly fallen for him?

Oh well. It didn't matter. All that mattered to her was getting to the bottom of everything, and if that meant spending time with someone she despised, then Hermione would do it.

She fell asleep that night feeling slightly better now that she had a purpose.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry about the lateness of this. I've been so overwhelmed. Just letting you all know, this story is not abandoned (obviously), i do plan on finishing it. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, they encourage me to write more. **

**Cheers guys,  
><strong>

**Leni  
><strong>


	25. Chapter 25

_**Chapter 25**_

_****__...in which truths are discovered and lies are told.  
><em>

* * *

><p>The sound of a scratching quill was all that could be heard in the Gryffindor common room early the next morning. That and the occasional sniffle, as Hermione attempted to stop her crying. She hadn't been able to sleep much the previous night, and all she could think of was how things had changed and how she couldn't keep up.<p>

So she had given up on sleep an hour ago, and had decided what she really needed was to spill all her emotions onto paper, and send them away in a letter to her mother. Perhaps she could provide some comfort. Hermione doubted it though; what could she, or anyone, say?

It was easy to say the usual generic stuff. 'Everything will be ok." "It'll all turn out fine." But how could people so confidently say that in a time of crisis? Was it alright to give someone false hope if it meant that they stopped worrying for a short time? She didn't want that. She wanted to hear the reality of the situation. Like the fact that she wouldn't get her memory back. That was reality. And no amount of empty words of motivation would change it.

She signed the letter with her name and a small 'x', and folded it into a white envelope, before scribbling her home address on the front. It wouldn't be sent til today, so she knew it would be a while before she received a reply. However, she was feeling restless, and knew that sleep was done for her, so a walk to the owlery was looking like a good idea.

She had so much on her mind that she needed to forget. Neville was different; and she wasn't sure how she felt about it before, but right now she hated it. She hated that he seemed to have become this person over night, despite the fact that she knew that wasn't true.

Then there was Ginny. The girl was really starting to bug Hermione. Who did she think she was to come in and butt her nose in where it didn't belong? Especially to go so far as to try and influence Hermione's life. She wasn't sure how close they had been, but she was certain she wouldn't have liked the girl much.

However, her biggest worry of all revolved around a certain Silver Marauder. Blaise Zabini had given her knowledge that they were 'in love'. Ugh. She grimaced whenever she thought about it. Was it possible that she had changed that much over the months? It scared her to think that she may have become someone similar to Lavender or Parvarti; someone who chased boys with desperation.

No. Hermione knew she would never be like that. It would have been different. She would have found something to like about him. He was smart, and quiet, perhaps funny. All of those things could have played a part. However, the only problem she couldn't explain was that he was, and currently _still_ was, friends with Draco Malfoy. And she couldn't explain how that was; because she was sure he would never have spoken to Blaise again if he'd dated a 'mudblood'.

She ran her hands through her hair and groaned aloud when her finger caught in a curl. It was so frustrating. To be told she'd done all these things, and not remember why. It was one of the reasons she couldn't sleep. She was too worked up about having to speak to Blaise and get him to explain the (possibly awkward) situation that led to their so-called 'love'.

She sighed. Couldn't someone just give her some memories in a pensieve? Wouldn't that be easier? However, she knew there would be parts missing; things only she, and possibly Zabini knew, but it would save her from having to think on it so much. She just wanted to catch up on her school work and be done with the past.

She stood, gripping the envelope in her hand. Outside, the sun was up, but she knew it would be another hour at least before people headed to breakfast. She was happy for that. The peace and quiet would be just what she needed.

The walk to the owlery was rather refreshing to Hermione. Despite the time of year, it was cool this time of morning, and she found herself wrapping her cloak around her tighter as she headed up to the West tower.

By the time she reached the owlery, she was breathing raggedly, and she had a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.

"I am so unfit," she muttered to herself, as she headed toward a small owl perched beside her. She heard a muffled snort from behind her, and spun around to come face to face with two of her most hated enemies.

Half of the Silver Marauders; Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were standing on the other side of the owlery, looking just as shocked. How long had they been skulking about?

In her surprise, she slipped on a particularly fresh owl dropping and found her legs slide from underneath her. She let out a loud 'Oomph!" as her behind met the cold, dropping-covered floor.

She grimaced as she glanced up at the two boys waiting for the inevitable guffaws; however, other than a small chuckle from Potter, which was immediately silenced by Draco's elbow to his rib, they merely stood there staring at her as though she had two heads.

It was then that she noticed both boys were dressed head to toe in Slytherin Quidditch gear, Potter was holding an envelope in his hand. They must have been having an early morning practise, and stopped here first. She'd heard about Weasley's suspension; no doubt that letter was for him.

As the boys stared at her, she began to wonder what the cause of their caution was. It was almost amusing to see such an expression on their normally cocky faces, especially when it was usually her who had to be cautious around them. It was almost like they were waiting for her to say something.

She cleared her throat calmly, and attempted to stand, hoping that she didn't slip over again. She found her footing just fine, and immediately turned to tie the envelope to the impatiently waiting owl's leg. After a moment of hurried fumbling, she succeeded.

"Bloody hell, Granger," She recognised Potter's disgusted cry, "You've got bird shit all over your ass!"

She froze, carefully trying to hide her horror, and swallowed thickly before turning and looking at the two boys. Potter was eyeing the place her butt had previously been with a disgusted expression, while Draco was scowling at the side of the bespectacled boys head.

Hermione was quite shocked by such a forward sentiment from Potter. He would never be so...ridiculous. He was always so cocky. Never would he let out such an outburst in public.

But...perhaps they hadn't hated each other so badly during her time with Zabini? Perhaps he didn't torment her any longer? She wasn't sure if she could say the same about Draco, however.

"I know," she muttered feeling rather humiliated, "excuse me."

She headed toward the door, treading carefully so she didn't trip over again. It was then that she heard Draco hiss from behind her.

"What are you doing? Put that away!"

She swallowed thickly. Was Potter going to hex her? She walked as quickly as she could, while bracing herself for the impact of something nasty. However, she almost fell over when she heard him chant, "Scourgify!"

She paused in her steps, before slowly turning around. Draco was staring at his feet, while Potter had a sheepish expression.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, looking serious, "but I was starting to dry heave at the sight."

Hermione merely stared for a moment, unsure what parallel universe she had entered.

"Oh," She said after a moment. Potter merely nodded, looking uncomfortable. Draco was still staring at his feet, his hands shoved in his pockets.

She stood there for another second, before realising how ridiculous she looked and began heading back down the steps. All the while her head was buzzing at what had just occurred.

* * *

><p>Blaise rolled over in his bed, and let out a large yawn. He felt completely refreshed. More refreshed than usual. He rolled over again, wondering how that was, but soon found the answer. The clock on the wall indicated that he'd slept in and was now late for breakfast. He stared at it dazedly for a moment longer, before abruptly sitting up. Shit! He was late!<p>

He raced around the room silently cursing his friends for not waking him up. It was then that he remembered they were at Quidditch practice and had most likely showered in the change rooms and gone straight to breakfast. He began cursing himself, instead, as he slipped on his pants and shirt, before fumbling with the buttons and tie.

Ten minutes later, he was racing up the dungeon corridor toward the Great hall. He was pleased to see there were a few people still standing in the entrance hall chatting. So he wasn't that late, after all. He supposed his hurried attempt at dressing himself helped in that.

He looked around the entrance hall, hoping to spot Draco or Potter. They were nowhere in sight and he assumed they were already eating. He began heading toward the Great hall, before his ears pricked up at the sound of a name; one that he internally seethed at whenever it was spoken.

"...that Loony Lovegood, you should've seen her this morning," a Ravenclaw boy chuckled to his friends, "we got a few of the girls to fill all her shoes with Bubotuber pus. I have to give her credit, she doesn't ever cry, but one of the girls said she ran off when they started laughing. I guess she finally snapped."

He and his friends began guffawing, and Blaise could feel the anger run through him red-hot. He turned on the spot and made his way over to the small group.

One of the boys, noticing his arrival and fierce expression, abruptly stopped laughing, and elbowed his neighbour in the ribs so he did the same. By the time Blaise stopped in front of them, he had three nervous Ravenclaw boys eyeing him hesitantly.

"You think it's funny to make someone feel like shit?" he asked, his voice low and threatening.

None of the boys answered, but merely stared at him.

"See, the thing is, I don't think it's funny." He continued. "In fact, I care about Luna, as you all know, so it's very fucking stupid of you to do this stuff to her, and to let me hear about it afterward."

"It's just a joke-," one of the boys began, nervously.

"Oh, fuck up, you idiot," Blaise interrupted hotly, not wanting to hear their excuses. "If you want to see a joke, I'll show you a joke."

He grabbed the collars of two of the boys, who were luckily quite a bit shorter than him before pulling them along toward the dungeons. The last boy hesitated, causing Blaise to stop in his tracks.

"If you don't follow now, I'll come back and get you myself," he threatened darkly. The boy swallowed, before his feet moved shakily after them.

Blaise dragged the two boys through the maze of dungeon corridors, with the last boy following behind for fear of the consequences of doing otherwise. He eyed the corridors carefully, until he passed a familiar portrait of a serpent, which led onto a small, incredibly dark corridor.

At the end of the corridor was a small storeroom, which would normally be of no importance to anyone. However, it was a well known fact to most of the elder Slytherins that this particular cupboard was home to an emotionally unstable Boggart, who had been there for quite some time.

It was a rite of passage, for elder Slytherins to take the First years to the cupboard and force them into it alone with merely a candle, to face their fears. If they came out with the candle still lit and in one piece, they earned the respect of the elder Slytherins and would be left alone. If they didn't, they would be the target of future torment.

Blaise had remembered his experience. He had only survived the incident because his Boggart never appeared. He had realised later, that in all actuality, his greatest fear was the fear of being abandoned and alone. He supposed the Boggart had fucked up on that one.

He paused in front of the old wooden door, and held out his hand. "Give me your wands."

The boys hesitated. He chuckled wryly. "Sorry, didn't finish that sentence properly. Give me your wands and I won't transfigure your dicks into cobra's."

He had three wands thrown at him immediately.

He eyed one of the boys; the one who had called Luna that horrible nickname. "You," he ordered. "Get in there."

The boy swallowed thickly, before walking on shaky legs toward the storage cupboard. He had no time to prepare himself, before Blaise had pushed him inside and slammed the door closed. The boy banged on it for a moment, crying out, before he went eerily silent.

"There's...there's something in here..." he said, his voice shaking. The next thing the three outside heard were the horrific and terrified screams of the boy inside the cupboard.

"LET ME OUT!" he cried, his voice cracking with fear as he screeched at the top of his lungs. "GET IT AWAY FROM ME!"

The two other boys outside backed away slowly, staring wide eyed at the door which was banging wildly on its hinges, as the boy inside screeched nonsensically. After ten more seconds, Blaise pulled open the door and dragged the teen out.

He was physically shaking, his complexion had gone deathly pale, and he stared wide-eyed, with a few wet patches on his cheeks.

"It...it..." he began, too shocked and disturbed to form a proper sentence.

"Don't try to talk," Blaise told him sternly, "just go back upstairs, eat your breakfast, and don't ever speak to, _think_ of speaking to, touch or _think_ of touching Luna Lovegood or anything that belongs to her again. Otherwise, this will be a daily reality for you." He motioned toward the closed storeroom door.

The boy shook his head abruptly. "I won't," he promised, half begging as he backed away, "Just don't, _please_ don't put me back in there."

Blaise nodded, and the teen began racing away down the corridor as quickly as his shaking legs would take him. The other two boys looked shocked by the submission of their friend, and worried at the prospect of going through a similar torture.

"You don't have to do that to us," one of the boys said, looking nervous. "Whatever's in there- we promise not to go near Loony- _Luna_- near Luna again." He grimaced at his slip of the tongue, knowing it would cost him.

Blaise seethed, before grabbing him roughly by the collar, and shoving him into the storeroom. He shut the door immediately.

It took five seconds before the desperate screams and cries were heard again. Blaise counted to ten silently in his head before opening the door and swiftly pulling the dishevelled teen out. He collapsed to the floor in a whimpering mess, as Blaise spoke.

"Her name is _Luna_, contrary to what you think. Perhaps you'll remember it now. In fact," he mused stroking his chin, "whenever you see her, I want you to say 'Hello, Luna.' Ok? I don't care if your friends laugh at you, you fucking say it. Alright?"

The boy nodded desperately. And Blaise sighed. "Get out of here."

The teen half-crawled, half-ran down the corridor in his desperation to escape whatever of his fears he'd seen behind the door. The last boy standing looked ready to faint.

"I've never said anything to her, I promise." The boy begged, "I just go along with it. Laugh at the right times, but I'd never do anything myself."

"That's just as bad," Blaise snapped, before freezing.

That was exactly what he was like before. He had just gone along with Draco the numerous amounts of times he'd decided to torture Hermione, or others. He swallowed. What made him any different to this boy?

He had changed, that's what. He stood there for a moment, silently battling with two parts of himself.

"Go," he ordered the teen in front of him, "but if you go near her, or let anyone near her, I'll find out."

The boy nodded quickly, before racing off, eager to get away from whatever lay behind the door of the store room waiting for him. Blaise stood silently for a moment, before running his hands through his hair.

He hated doing this stuff. He hadn't really done it before, except when situations were desperate. Those situations always seemed to involve Luna. Everything was fine as long as she was happy. Right now there was a chance she wasn't.

He began walking quickly down the corridor, determined to find Luna and make sure she was ok.

* * *

><p>He found her, unsurprisingly, in the kitchens eating breakfast as she sat chatting to a house elf, who looked extremely happy at having prepared her meal.<p>

"How did I know I'd find you here?" he said, half smiling, though he was concerned that she may be upset.

She looked up smiling, "I suppose I wasn't that difficult to find, but I'm curious as to why you would?"

"Because I..." care about you, he wanted to say, but instead: "Because I wanted you to come to breakfast."

Luna bit her lip. "I was going to this morning, but then-,"

"I know what happened," he said darkly. "It won't happen again. People are idiots, Luna, don't let them bring you down."

She cocked her head. "Not every person in the world is horrible, Blaise."

Blaise snorted. "I'd like to see an example of that." He muttered, before quickly realising the example was sitting in front of him. But even Luna made mistakes; he supposed that was her point.

"I hope you see something one day that changes your mind," She said in all seriousness. He merely nodded; he wasn't holding out hope that he would.

"Would you just come to breakfast?" he asked, almost pleading.

She laughed. "Why do I need to go there when I have a delicious breakfast here?"

The house elf beamed at her compliment. Blaise sighed.

"It's not merely about breakfast; you need to show your face, you need to prove to those idiots-,"

"I don't have to prove anything, Blaise," she said gently. "I'm quite happy being 'Loony Lovegood', as hard as it may believe. The things we experience when we're younger shape our character."

Blaise shook his head in disbelief. Of course she would find the upside of this situation. "Well, let me tell you this, you're going to have one hell of a character."

She grinned, before inviting him to sit beside her.

They enjoyed a private breakfast together, chatting animatedly, until one of the house elves warned them they'd be late for class. They reluctantly left the kitchens, and Blaise had to agree with Luna, sometimes the best things came from not caring.

The entrance hall was bustling with students heading to their first class for the day when the pair arrived.

"Will you be ok today?" he asked Luna, as he watched her looking about. She merely smiled and nodded.

At that moment, Blaise noticed a familiar group of three Ravenclaw boys walk past toward the stairs. Two of the boys kept their heads down walking quickly, but one of them was eyeing Blaise nervously as he went. He paused in front of them for a short second, before turning to Luna.

"Hello, Luna." He said politely, before turning and racing to catch up with his friends, who were already half way up the first set of stairs.

Luna stared after the boy, looking surprised, before a small smile came upon her face. Blaise enjoyed the way her demeanour brightened at the mere fact that she'd been acknowledged.

"See," she said, wisely, turning to look Blaise in the eye, "not everybody in the world is horrible."

Blaise didn't say anything, but merely smiled.

* * *

><p>The day seemed to race along, and eventually Hermione found herself in one of her favourite, and at the same time, least favourite classes of all: potions.<p>

It was her favourite because she enjoyed the precision, skill and knowledge of potion making; it was her least favourite because of Professor Snape and the Slytherins.

She ignored a particularly nasty glare from Pansy Parkinson as she sat in her seat at the front of the room. At least _that_ hadn't changed.

She began to unpack her bag, ensuring she had everything she needed for the lesson, when a shadow was cast across her desk. She looked up to find the grinning face of Katie Bell looking down at her. Hermione frowned.

"Katie, what are you doing in this class?" Katie was a year older; she should be in one of the 7th year's classes. The girl looked sheepish.

"I know, I just quickly slipped past to ask you if you could cover my prefect duties for tonight." She pleaded, "The Slytherin team snuck in an early morning practice for the Quidditch Cup today, and our team just wants to make sure we're prepared, which means a practice tonight. I normally wouldn't ask, considering all you've been through, but you're the most responsible person I could think of..."

Hermione beamed inwardly at the compliment, despite the fact she had intended to catch up on school work tonight. She bit her lip. It was quite funny; she hadn't even known that Gryffindor had made it to the finals, though they always usually did. She couldn't even remember there being a Quidditch match this year...

She nodded. "That's fine, Katie. I'll cover for you. Good luck with practice."

The girl beamed, "Thank you so much, Hermione! I owe you-,"

"Miss Bell, as far as I am aware you are not taking 6th year Potions, unless you feel the need for some revision. Otherwise, leave immediately. You're holding up my classroom."

Both girls eyed Snape nervously, before Katie turned to leave. "Sorry, sir." She said quickly, before racing out.

Hermione began to scribble down the notes that appeared on the board, along with the rest of the class.

"Don't you think you're taking on a bit much?" A voice whispered from beside her. Her head snapped around to find Neville seated in the adjacent desk. She frowned, when had he gotten there?

He looked concerned. Despite the fact that he was just trying to look out for her, it annoyed her that he kept looking at her like she was fragile.

"It's just prefect duties," she told him, "I've done it a hundred times before."

"I know," he backtracked, "I'm just saying...don't you think, considering everything that's going on, that you should concentrate on important things."

She felt her quill dig into her parchment, leaving a messy splatter. She took a deep breath.

"I don't need you to constantly tell me what I'm doing wrong, Neville." She informed him as calmly as possible, "I don't know why you seem to think I'm so volatile, but I'm fine. I'm not going to snap at any second."

Neville frowned. "I just want to be here for you... I'm actually proud of you, Hermione, the way you've handled everything. Especially the whole thing with, you know, being in love with-,"

"I'm not in love with him, Neville," she hissed, interrupting him before he said the name in front of any listening ears. Or _his_ listening ears. "I refuse to believe that until I have proof. I mean, I hated those Silver Marauders, how could I possibly _love_ one of them?"

"Not just one of them," Neville grimaced, "the _worst_ one."

"I would say, if anything, that he was the only half decent one." She said, even though she agreed they were all pretty rotten.

Neville furrowed his brow, looking confused. "What are you talking about? He was definitely the most horrible-,"

"Mr Longbottom, Miss Granger," Snape interrupted from in front of their desk, looking thoroughly annoyed, "I can assure you that learning the techniques for preparing this potion will be far more beneficial to you than your inane conversation. Unless you want detention, I suggest you keep your mouths shut."

The two nodded, and got back to their work, without speaking again.

Across the room, Potter snorted. "Well, at least some things haven't changed. Snape's still got a vengeance for Granger."

Draco grunted, looking annoyed. Blaise wondered what that was about.

"I wonder what they were talking about, anyway?" Potter continued. "They both looked pretty involved."

Blaise could only imagine it had something to do with what he'd told her the previous day.

"Why do you care?" Draco snapped. "First you perve on her ass, now you're trying to decipher her? Bloody hell."

Blaise chuckled, as Potter looked horrified. "I was not perving on her ass! It was covered in bird shit!"

"Keep it down," Blaise warned, as Snape eyed them with a cautionary look.

"You were still looking at it pretty intently," Draco huffed, scribbling down his notes.

Potter stared at the blond in disbelief. "Because it was covered in bird shit." He said quite plainly.

Draco sighed, choosing to ignore Potter. "She looked at us weird this morning. She wasn't scared."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Do you want her to be?"

"No." Draco said quickly, "But it's just weird that she wasn't...it's almost like she's forgotten, but she's still the same as she was. Tough, you know?"

Blaise nodded. "She is..." he bit his lip.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the Italian. "Why do you look like I'm going to want to punch you in the face at any moment?" He asked suspiciously.

"Ah...well...I may have spoken to her yesterday." Blaise confessed. He hadn't planned to tell Draco anything of that yet, not until he had spoken to Hermione about _who_ exactly it was that she was in love with. That would be a big shock for her.

Draco's eyes narrowed further. "What did you say?" he asked calmly, though he looked like he were about to snap.

"I told her," Blaise said quickly.

Potter and Draco stared at him for a moment.

"Told her what?"

"That she was in love with you." Well, close enough, he supposed. "She took it surprisingly well."

Draco was silent for a moment, before he turned and stared wide eyed at Hermione from across the room. "She knows?" he asked, his voice full of hope and awe.

Blaise swallowed. It wouldn't hurt to tell a little lie. "Yes...but that doesn't mean she's okay with it. I mean she took it well, but people take the diagnosis of terminal illnesses well too."

Draco turned to scowl at him, and he agreed it was probably a poor comparison.

"Well, she still knows," Draco said, as though that changed everything. Blaise didn't want to burst his bubble, so he merely agreed.

"Yea, she does."

* * *

><p>"I still don't understand why you two get out of detention," Blaise grumbled as he packed his bag. "Bloody Snape shouldn't favour Quidditch players."<p>

Draco chuckled, as he and Potter lazed around in their uniforms. "Well, if you'd taken up the offer of joining the team you wouldn't have to go. Besides, we're important members of the team, we need the extra practise."

Blaise scowled. "Have fun with that," he muttered as he exited the dorms on his way to the potion's classroom. He entered the cold, desolate classroom, and immediately noticed how empty it was. The only person present was Snape, who was scribbling a note on his desk.

On Blaise's arrival, the Professor looked up. "You're late, Mr Zabini. Take your seat, and begin any homework you have."

Blaise hesitated. "Uh, sir, where's everyone else?" He knew Draco and Potter were absent, but shouldn't Nott at least be here to suffer the torture?

Snape didn't look up as he spoke. "Potter and Draco will be at Quidditch training, once I secure them the pitch. Nott has Prefect duties to attend to tonight."

Blaise cursed silently to himself. Great. He was stuck here alone. He sat down at one of the many empty desks, and pulled his school work out of his bag.

Snape stood after a moment, and left the room. The only sound Blaise could hear was the dripping of water from the roof and the scribbling of his own quill.

* * *

><p>Hermione sighed as she searched through her draws for her prefect badge. This whole room was a mess, thanks to Lavender and Parvarti, and she wouldn't be surprised if it was lost somewhere under the three foot high piles of clothes and makeup on the floor.<p>

She fumbled past an old copy of Wuthering Heights that had been in her draw; then past a small velvet pouch, which seemed to contain something heavy. She picked it up for a moment, wondering where it had come from. It wasn't familiar...

She sighed, before sticking it on her bed. It was probably one of the other girls'.

She finally came across her badge at the back of the draw, and sighed before clipping it to her robes. She checked the clock on the wall; she was supposed to be downstairs already.

She raced toward the door, wading through the clothes-covered floor, before she tripped on something hard. She groaned angrily, as she sat up and dug through the pile. She retrieved a large round glass ball, which fit perfectly in her palm. It was one of Parvarti or Lavender's crystal balls, she realised.

She shook her head. Did they not take care of their school things?

She was just about to throw it on one of their beds, when the inside of the ball became misty. Hermione froze. Divination had never worked for her before, so why would it now?

She stared into the middle of the glass, trying to make out what the mist was forming. She saw a girl with brown curls...was that her...? It was, she realised, as the girl turned and she saw her face.

If it was her, she looked so happy...

Hermione frowned. She didn't remember this...

It suddenly dawned on her that the point of the crystal ball was to show the future. She almost kicked herself at her stupidity, but then again, why was she so stupid as to believe something that appeared in a crystal ball?

She was about the toss it on the floor, when the girls' mouth opened, and she spoke. Hermione squinted, trying to read her own lips. Olive soup...? I love juice...? She froze.

_I love you._

The girl in the ball reached out toward someone, and Hermione caught the first sight of someone else. Her fingers in the glass stroked a lock of platinum blonde hair, out of the eyes of a boy whose face she couldn't see yet. Why the heck was everything so white? She squinted, trying to see his face. His eyes were almost visible past her hand...

Then the door slammed. She dropped the crystal ball in her shock. Lavender and Parvarti strode in, chatting animatedly between themselves. Hermione looked down at the crystal ball lying on a pink frilly bra. The mist was gone.

She stood, feeling annoyed. Why did she care about this anyway? She had believed during her whole school life that divination was a load of bull, why did it change now? She supposed she was desperate for answers that no one seemed willing to provide.

She walked out of the room, ignoring Lavender and Parvarti's scowls as she did.

* * *

><p>The entrance hall was surprisingly not as empty as she expected it to be when she arrived. She saw Professor Snape, along with Professor McGonagall, as well as both the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams standing around. They were scowling at each other, typically.<p>

As she made her way over to Professor McGonagall, her eyes caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair, and immediately she turned towards it. She found herself staring into a pair of grey eyes, who had already been watching her.

She moved her stare away from him immediately, but only seconds later, she had to look back. He was still staring at her. Her eyes moved to his hair. Had it always been so blond? One would almost call it platinum blond, she thought idly.

She froze, wide eyed. Oh, for the love of Merlin, no. No, never. It could never be.

Lots of people were blond, she told herself. Plenty. Absolutely plenty. He may be the only platinum blonde in the school, but not in the world, right? Of course. The school was tiny and he was a git, and that was that.

She looked away a second later, feeling a bit better, when Professor McGonagall noticed her presence.

"Miss Granger," she cried, "what are you doing here? You should be resting."

Hermione inwardly sighed. "I'm on prefect duties tonight, Professor."

McGonagall looked confused. "But I though Miss Bell-," she turned to the Gryffindor team and noticed Katie, "Oh, I see. Well, I suppose I should thank you for supporting your house team." She said, though she didn't look like she agreed with it.

"Off you got then," McGonagall said, turning back to Snape who was looking impatient. She began another heated conversation with him about who was to use the pitch. Hermione turned and headed into the great hall to find her partner for the night.

She was surprised to find Theodore Nott waiting in the hall as she entered it. She eyed his chest to see a shiny prefect badge glittering away. When had he become a prefect?

He stood and made his way toward her, looking annoyed. "Finally," he muttered, "I've been waiting 15 minutes for you. Just because you're half brain dead don't think the rules get changed for you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. What a freaking git.

"Since when are you a prefect anyway?" She asked. He didn't pause in his steps.

"Since Malfoy can't do the job properly," he replied haughtily. "Although you'd know all about that, right? Or perhaps not."

She furrowed her brow, but chose to ignore his cryptic words. They exited the great hall, and he seemed surprised to find the large group of people loitering there, still arguing.

"Hey Ginny!" a voice called from within the crowd, "There's your boyfriend!"

A few people laughed, while Ginny's face turned the colour of her hair. She and Nott made eye contact for a moment, before he turned away and continued walking with a scowl on his face.

"Are you her boyfriend?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious. She kept a few steps behind him.

"No," he snapped, continuing up the stairs.

They got to the first floor, and he stopped abruptly before turning to her.

"You go this way," he motioned left, "I'll go the other way. It'll be quicker and I won't have to be near you."

He stepped around her and kept walking. Hermione stared at his back. What was his problem?

One hour passed as they made their way separately up the stairs, another hour and Hermione swore she would die of boredom. Normally, she patrolled with someone. She could converse and not have to listen to the sounds of her own footsteps echoing up the hall. She paused, sighing to herself.

Weirdly enough, the sound of echoing footsteps didn't cease. She crossed her arms. It would be Nott telling her to move onto the next floor. He was doing a very shoddy job at this and she was going to tell him so.

A dark figure appeared from around the corner and began to walk toward her, she narrowed her eyes at him and prepared a reinforcement of come-backs, however her words were lost in her throat, when the torch on the wall lit up a patch of platinum blonde hair.

She backed up slowly, as he continued to take calculated steps toward her. She must have been kidding herself to think that he wouldn't hate her or hurt her anymore; he had obviously just been waiting for the right moment.

His face came into full view, and she swallowed thickly as he paused ahead, looking down at her with an odd expression.

"Please don't hurt me," she pleaded, though she tried to keep her voice strong.

He furrowed his brow at her, looking confused. "You're scared of me?"

She stared at him. It was best not to be vulnerable, so she shook her head. She nearly fell over when he smiled at her. Not a sadistic, twisted smile, but a genuine smile.

"Good." He swallowed thickly. "I've missed you. I know that means nothing to you. But I've missed you so much. I just want you to know that, if it ever comes to matter in the future."

She stared at him in shock. What the heck was going on?

* * *

><p>Blaise was staring at the ceiling from his bed when Potter returned to the dorm from Quidditch practice.<p>

"We had to share the pitch with the Gryffindors," Potter frowned. "I'm a little worried about our chances now."

Blaise rolled on his side. "I'm sure you'll do fine. Where's Draco?"

Potter sighed. "He went to find Hermione. She's got Prefect duties tonight. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen-,"

Blaise sat up abruptly at Potter's words. "Fuck!"

"What's going on?" Potter asked quickly, as Blaise stood from his place on the bed.

"She doesn't know, Harry. He's going to fucking ruin it all."

"But I thought you said-,"

"I lied!" Blaise shouted as he raced out the door.

* * *

><p>Hermione felt like she'd entered some parallel universe. Was Draco Malfoy...in love...with her?<p>

"I don't understand," she said quietly, staring at his chest, the wall behind him, anywhere but those eyes.

"I know it's a lot to understand right now," he said gently. He leaned forward and she backed up, only to find her back was already pressed against the wall.

"Please..." she whimpered, scared of what he might do, despite his gentle demeanour.

She felt his cool hand around her own as he lifted her arm. He pressed her hand against his face in a kiss, before moving it to his cheek. Hermione let her arm go limp as he held it there. Her heart was beating rapidly.

"This is wrong. This isn't..." she trailed off, feeling her eyes fill with tears. Why was he doing this?

He let her hand drop to her side, as he stared at her wide eyed. He backed away a step, looking composed.

"I'm sorry. I just, I suppose I forget that you don't remember me the way I remember you."

"But Blaise..." she muttered. There were fast footsteps echoing around the corner.

Draco furrowed his brow. "What about him?"

The footsteps were getting closer.

"I'm supposed to be in love with _him_!" she cried, feeling confused. Who was lying; who was telling the truth?

As if on cue, Blaise appeared in the hallway, breathless and looking desperate. Potter appeared a moment later.

He made his way over to them, eyeing the situation with caution. Hermione, unsurprisingly, looked confused and upset, Draco looked...well...murderous. Odd and worrying, that was.

"What did you say to her?" Blaise asked Draco, as he paused.

Draco scowled at him. "I should be the one asking you that."

Blaise turned to his friend looking confused. "What are you talking about, mate?"

He didn't wait for an answer, as Hermione sniffled. He turned back to her, looking concerned. "Hermione," he grabbed her by the shoulders, "are you ok?"

He immediately felt the wind knocked out of him as Draco barged him to the floor.

"Don't touch her," Draco seethed, leaning over Blaise as he gasped. "Don't fucking touch her. Don't speak to her. Don't even look at her!"

Potter raced forward, grabbing Draco by the arms and pulling him away. "Calm down, mate!"

"He's a fucking traitor!" Draco bellowed, eyeing Blaise with a deathly glare. Blaise used the opportunity to sit up, though it hurt to do so.

"I don't know what you're bloody talking about!" he yelled at Draco.

"Sure you fucking don't," Draco laughed wryly, though he looked distraught. "You told me that I was being ridiculous about that dream I had; that you'd never do that to me. You're full of shit! The first opportunity you get, you go behind my back and convince her that she loved you! It was _me_, you lying fucking git!"

"I never said anything to her!" Blaise cried. He turned to Hermione, who was staring wide eyed at Draco.

"Hermione, just bloody tell him I never said it was me you loved." He told her.

"Don't fucking talk to her!" Draco cried, as he struggled against Potter's grip.

"I thought you were talking about you," she said weakly, still staring at Draco, while looking close to a panic attack.

"Did I ever say it was me though?" he asked impatiently. She swallowed thickly, looking distraught.

"No...but...it's not...it's not him is it?" She asked, looking toward Draco. The blond went limp in Potter's arms as he sensed the disgust in her voice.

They were silent for a moment.

"Yes," Blaise told her, while eyeing the devastated expression on Draco's face, "It was him I was talking about."

She began to breathe rather quickly, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She blinked a few times, and then she collapsed.

"Fuck!" Blaise cried, as she fainted limply to the floor. "This is what I didn't what to happen, you fucking idiot!"

Draco merely stared at her looking devastated and distraught. "Why did you tell me she knew?"

"Because I thought it would give you some hope," Blaise snapped. "I didn't think you'd go and fucking hound her!"

Draco didn't respond, he simply dropped to the floor, looking calm for the first time.

The sound of rapid footsteps came from around the corner as Theodore Nott raced over.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he said eyeing Hermione unconscious form. "What did you do?"

"We didn't do anything," Potter snapped, scowling at the teen. "She just fainted."

Nott narrowed his eyes. "People don't just faint, Potty."

"Mind your own business, Nott." Potter growled.

"This is my business, idiot." Nott retorted, "I'm a prefect on duty, you're out of bed, and you've knocked my patrol partner unconscious."

"We didn't do that!" Potter cried. "She just fainted because she found out she's in love with Malfoy."

Both Draco and Blaise turned to scowl at him. Nott, however, chuckled.

"Really? Fuck. I wish I'd been here to see that. I heard it from all the way up stairs." He chuckled again.

"Sod off, idiot." Draco snapped.

Nott merely ignored him. "Take her to the hospital wing. I'm not getting in trouble for that. Oh, and ten points from each of you for being out after curfew."

The others stared at him incredulously.

"We're in the same house, you idiot!" Potter cried.

Nott shrugged. "Looks like I'll have to let everyone know you cost us 30 points. Now move it before I take more."

The three boys scowled as Nott left them. Blaise attempted to pick up Hermione's limp body, but Draco stood quickly and tossed her over his shoulder quite easily. Blaise sighed. He could see that Draco would not forgive him easily for this.

They made their way up to the hospital wing. Potter left them in order to get back to the dungeons before they got caught again. The nurse was not happy to see them, but she chose to attend to Hermione instead of calling their head of house. They supposed they should be grateful for that; however, the tension between them was palpable as they walked back to their dorms.

"You believe me, right?" Blaise asked after a moment. "You know I wouldn't do that."

Draco set his jaw. "I don't know what you'd do anymore, Zabini."

He continued walking, leaving Blaise to stare after him. Why the fuck did he keep getting involved?

If he'd just left everything alone, none of this would have happened, and perhaps Hermione would have remembered on her own. But at least she knew now. The shock was over, and now she had to face reality.

And the reality for her was that she was in love with her greatest enemy. It was a shame he'd managed to fuck up everything else in the process.

* * *

><p>"Wake up, dear," a soothing voice hummed, as Hermione was dragged back to consciousness.<p>

She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the torch light in the hospital wing. Her body ached, but the bed beneath her was soft. She suddenly remembered why she was there, and began panicking again.

She was supposed to be in love with Draco Malfoy. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. The mere thought disgusted her.

"Calm down, dear," the nurse soothed. "Take this, it'll help you relax."

She assisted Hermione in downing a potion, which tasted like Lavender. Hermione was far too absorbed in her thoughts to even ask what it did, but she didn't care when it immediately soothed her, and her aches and pains went away.

"Now, it's far too late for you to be wandering back upstairs," the nurse tutted, "so do try and get some rest here. You don't want to push yourself too much considering what you've been through."

Hermione nodded, feeling drowsy. The nurse left her a moment later, and it only took seconds for her to slip unconscious again.

_She found herself in a book shop, reading a large tome. The sound of a bell could be heard in the background, but she ignored it. However, seconds later a shadow was cast over her and she looked up. It was Draco Malfoy._

_She stood abruptly, bumping her stomach on the desk. They both looked down at the protruding bump that sat neatly behind her shirt. She gasped._

_"Be careful, love. I'd like my son to be born in one piece," he smirked as he sat his hands on her stomach._

Hermione awoke abruptly, and immediately her hands flew to her stomach. It was flat, as usual, and she let out a relieved sigh. What a disturbing dream. She supposed it had to do with the potion, or the stress of tonight's..._events_. However, unbeknownst to Hermione, the reason for the oddness of her dream was not because of a potion gone wrong.

It was because this particular dream was not her own, but someone else's.

In two separate beds, in two separate rooms, two people lay awake pondering that dream. One disturbed; one oddly comforted.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Just a short one to make up for my lack of updates recently. Hope you guys enjoy. let me know what you think :)**

**Leni  
><strong>


	26. Chapter 26

_**Chapter 26**_

_...in which questions are answered and deals are made.  
><em>

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><p><em><strong>AN: I know it's been a while since I updated, but I've not abandoned this story for all those who have asked. It's just difficult to find time to write and I was rather stuck about where to direct it as I usually just write as I go. But i think I know how this is going to end, and I think it's getting close. I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter because I changed my mind so much about it, but I hope you like it. Thanks for reading, and thanks for helping me hit 1000 follows :)**_

_**Leni**_

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><p>Two weeks passed slowly at Hogwarts, and it may as well have been pointless. It seemed that no progress was being made anywhere. Hermione, despite her frequent meetings with the headmaster, was no closer to regaining her memories. Draco was falling deeper and deeper into his own silent void of depression, and Blaise felt like he was caught in the middle. Not to mention he and Luna were going nowhere fast.<p>

He was currently sitting alone in the library, attempting to finish an assignment that wasn't due til next week. It was the only thing he could do to occupy his mind. Draco was still mad about the incident with Hermione, and to top it off, Hermione was avoiding all of them.

Blaise had always been calm and collected, but he was about ready to snap and lock both of them in a room together. The fact that he thought that wasn't a half bad idea frightened him a little.

He stretched, and eyed the clock on the wall. It was 8:30. Quidditch practise would be over, and Potter and Draco would be back in the dorms. At least he could go talk to Potter; Draco wasn't much in the mood for talking to people lately.

Even Hermione. Draco had seemingly given up all attempts to speak to her. Every time they passed in the corridors, he would turn his head to the ground. Blaise had always noticed a tell-tale blush on his cheeks. He was embarrassed about the whole incident. He didn't blame Draco really. He'd poured his heart out, only to have Hermione reject him. Not that he really should have expected any different.

It worried Blaise, though; the summer holidays were quickly approaching, and the more distance that grew between everybody, the more he worried it would be permanent. Even if Hermione didn't remember, he should at least try to build an amicable relationship with her now, not just wait on her memories to return, if they did return.

Blaise sighed, before deciding that his mind was running far too wild to concentrate on any school work. He stood from his secluded table, grabbing his things into his bag. He moved through the row of shelves that made up the towering library. He had just made his way toward the doors, when he halted in his steps. At the library desk, he could see the back of a head of bushy hair. It was unmistakeably Hermione.

"Please, Madame Pince. I just need this one book to finish off my Transfiguration essay. Just this one." She begged in hushed tones. Her foot was tapping on the floor impatiently. She was clearly in a rush.

The librarian sighed, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry Miss Granger, but you're at your borrowing limit. You must return a book before you can get it. Can't you just sit here and read it?"

Hermione looked around as if she were expecting to be pounced on by anyone at any second.

"Given the current situation, I haven't exactly been as keen to socialise..." she said, looking slightly embarrassed.

The librarian sighed again. "I really can't let you have the book, dear..."

Blaise strode forward. "I'll borrow it." He said to the librarian. He noticed Hermione freeze as he spoke. He was clearly one of the people she was hoping to avoid.

The librarian looked uncertain. "You can't borrow on another student's behalf."

"It's for me," he said quickly, "I need it for an assignment".

The librarian eyed him for a moment, before picking up the book and waving her wand at her list of borrowed books. It appeared under his name.

Hermione looked annoyed.

"Sorry, dear," sitting the book in front of Blaise, "but if another student needs it, I can't hold onto it for you."

Hermione merely nodded, and briskly headed for the door. Blaise grabbed the book and followed after her quickly.

He attempted to move in front of her as she strode along quickly, but she kept diverting him. Eventually he grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt. It was a big mistake. Her hand swung back and slapped him across the face. He stood, staring at her with a flabbergasted expression.

"You just hit me." He said, shocked, as he held his hand to his throbbing cheek.

"You touched me inappropriately." She said simply, though she looked as though she were worried he might hit her back.

Blaise sputtered indignantly. "I was trying to stop you! Here, take your damn book," he shoved the thick tome in her arm.

Her face softened into one of surprise. "Why are you giving it to me?" She asked, staring at the cover.

"Because you need it." He said, still feeling slightly annoyed, "And because at one point, we were friends and that's the sort of thing I would have done for you, even if you don't remember it."

She didn't reply, but merely looked away.

"Why are you avoiding everyone?" he asked, noticing how distraught she looked. "I haven't seen you outside of class. I suppose it's because you've been sneaking around. I mean, I knew you were antisocial, but this is something else."

She looked slightly embarrassed. "It's none of your business."

He scoffed. "Of course it's not. We were friends, and you were dating my best friend who happens to love you, so yeah, I can see how it all has nothing to do with me."

She narrowed her eyes. "That means nothing to me, because I don't remember it. Why do you think I'm avoiding people? I'm sick of them constantly getting annoyed at me for things I don't recall. Of course I don't want to acknowledge the fact that I was supposedly in love with the biggest git around. It not only hurts my pride, but also makes me question my intelligence to think that he managed to fool me!" She was breathing heavily by the end of her rant, and Blaise knew it was probably the most honest thing she'd said in a while.

He watched her for a moment, wondering how she could possibly have come to that conclusion.

"You weren't stupid for falling for him, Hermione." He explained, "Draco didn't trick you. If anything, you both had a very...odd relationship. You fought like hell, and were constantly inadvertently insulting one another, but you could tell, just by the way he looked at you, and you at him, that deep down you thought so highly of each other. You have it wrong in your head. He never smooth talked you, or romanticised you. You just fell for his twattiness, and he fell for your stubborn, nerdy nature. Simple as that."

Hermione stared at him, as though she didn't know what to say.

"I find it hard to believe that I would let Draco Malfoy insult me and not hate him for it." She said after a moment. Blaise shrugged.

"His insults became light hearted endearments. He once told me that all the things he ever said he hated you for, was why he actually liked you so much."

"Even my blood?" She said, challenging him. He faltered slightly, and she scoffed.

"See? This is a pointless conversation."

"He stopped caring about your blood. He worked past his prejudices for you." Blaise said quickly.

"I wouldn't be with someone who was born and bred to despise me, Blaise. That is why I must have been stupid to be with him."

She turned quickly and kept walking, not giving Blaise a chance to reply. He wanted to kick himself; he'd walked straight into that one. But he supposed, given what she knew, or didn't know, that she had a point.

By the time he made it back to the dungeons, he was in a foul mood, and he wasn't the only one. His two friends sat on their respective beds, looking just as happy as Blaise.

No one spoke as he sat on his bed. "What's going on?"

Potter turned to him. "Lucius Malfoy has set a date for Draco to marry Pansy."

Blaise turned to see Draco staring blankly at the ceiling; he looked like he was elsewhere.

"When?" Blaise asked, turning back to Potter.

"A month." Potter replied.

And suddenly it all became so real.

Apparently, after Draco's outburst at Pansy, not to mention his current odd behaviour, Lucius Malfoy had made sure there would be nothing to hold up the coupling of two very perfectly matched person's. He had set the wedding for the first week of the summer holidays. A Friday, to be exact. They would wed in front of hundreds of high society purebloods, with expensive canapé's and wine. Then they would leave for their honeymoon to Paris. It was all sickeningly romantic for something that contained no romance at all. An arranged marriage, where there was a likely chance that no happiness would ever be found.

* * *

><p>The news was all over school within two days. Blaise felt sorry for Draco; it was one thing to have your engagement announced, but even worse to have the wedding date revealed. He did notice a few pitying stares from the males around the school.<p>

It seemed that the news was also the talk of the wizarding world. Two powerful, wealthy pureblood families joining forces was seen to be an extremely important event for politics. It was, Blaise supposed, but Draco didn't seem to like the number of congratulatory letters he was receiving from many of his fathers' business partners and acquaintances. He didn't receive many when the engagement was announced, which meant only one thing; this was really happening.

"Do you care?" Ginny asked, turning to Hermione. The latter was staring at the Slytherin table; she'd been watching the numerous amount of owls land and drop of dozens of letters to Malfoy. She looked away quickly.

"Of course not," She said quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly.

Ginny continued to watch her, scanning her in a way that might Hermione slightly nervous. "It doesn't look that way."

Hermione sighed. This was why she had been avoiding people. "I've been told I'm in love with him, I'm just wondering if I _should_ care."

Ginny scoffed, flicking her hair back. "Of course you shouldn't! He's a git and he doesn't deserve you. He deserves to spend his miserable life with someone as equally miserable. Besides, you don't even remember being in love with him." She shrugged as if that were that.

Hermione sighed impatiently. "What if I _do_ remember one day, Ginny? What if I wake up one day and remember everything?"

Ginny stared at her suspiciously, clearly trying to understand what she was implying. Suddenly her eyes widened. "Are you crazy?" She all but cried, drawing more attention to them then Hermione would've liked. "Are you seriously worried about regretting this when you don't even love him? And even so, Hermione, you guys weren't going that well anyway."

Hermione sighed, and turned away from the Slytherin table back to her plate, while also trying to ignore the stares of a few gossiping girls from further up the table.

"I'm not saying I care, I would just like to know all sides of the story. I don't know who to believe-,"

"You should believe me and Neville," Ginny interrupted. Hermione didn't think that was probably her best option, since Ginny and Neville would want what's best for her, and she knew in their opinion that didn't involve Malfoy. It was her opinion at the moment, too. But still...

"Hmm," Hermione agreed non-committaly. If Ginny thought the matter was closed, she would hopefully leave her alone for now. But the matter was far from over for Hermione. This large chunk of her life had just disappeared into thin air and she seemed no closer to finding it.

She'd had her own doubts about whether she really wanted to uncover the past, but Professor Dumbledore had set her straight.

He had told her that the past it what defines us, whether it's full of thing's we're proud of, or things we regret. Hermione was sure this would be something she would regret, but she could never just take the false words of her friends as fact and hope the whole thing went away, because it wouldn't. There was a reason she had fallen for Draco Malfoy, and she wanted to know that reason before anything else happened. And suddenly she was determined.

* * *

><p>Blaise was surprised when he was hounded on his way to his first lesson that morning. He'd gone to step around a corner only to find himself staring down the stern face of Hermione who happened to be eyeing him with a displeased expression. He sighed.<p>

"Why am I always on the receiving end of your bad moods lately?" He asked, barely stopping as he continued on his way.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she ignored his comment. "I want to know why I loved him."

Blaise stopped abruptly and turned to look at her, his expression one of surprise. "Really?"

She hesitated, looking as though she weren't really sure.

"...Yes." She eventually squeaked out.

"Why?" Blaise asked. He found it odd that she went from having no interest, to suddenly hounding him about it.

She bit her lip, looking as though she were struggling to find a logical reason. In the end she threw her hands up in defeat. "Because I'm a know-it-all, I suppose."

Blaise stared at her for a moment, and could tell this was difficult for her. She was putting up a wall. Draco did it all the time. "That's not why."

She eyed her feet, but didn't speak. They were silent for a moment before she finally surrendered.

"Fine. I want to know before he gets married."

Blaise wasn't expecting that. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Why?"

She looked as though this were the most difficult thing to say. But she seemed to force it out.

"I don't want regrets." She muttered, as though she were so embarrassed she could barely speak the words. "I want to know everything. I want to know why. I know myself, and I know that I never do anything on a whim, and...I know I was with him, and I'm not stupid. I'm not. I must have had a reason."

She was rambling, clearly feeling uncomfortable speaking to him about this.

"You said we were friends," she continued, eyeing him with a sincere expression, "so tell me why."

Blaise blinked. How could he possibly tell her what she had felt for his friend? It was impossible.

"I can't exactly do that, Hermione. I can't answer that question, that's something you have to figure out."

She didn't look satisfied by his response.

"Really?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her, "You've pestered me constantly about him since this whole memory thing happened, and now you tell me you can't answer my questions?"

Blaise sighed. "Hermione, I get that this is hard for you, but I can't answer something like that. I'm not you. I don't know what you felt- or why, I just know, from what I saw, that you did feel it."

Hermione bit down on her lip. "Everyone wants something different from me. Neville and Ginny want me to leave it, and you want me to try and remember. I don't know what to do anymore."

Blaise placed and arm on her shoulder, and was surprised when she didn't flinch. "You have to do this for you. They're your memories. It's a large part of your life. No one else's." He stepped back, with a small smile. "Yes, I admit I would like to see you with Draco again, you made him a little bit more tolerable, but in the end it's up to you."

"So you're saying I can either choose to live in ignorance, or remember something that might scar me for life."

Blaise smirked at her words. "Pretty much."

She stared at the ground, and Blaise felt empathetic at her plight. He would not be able to handle something like this himself.

"I don't think I'm getting any closer to remembering." She confessed, "My sessions with Dumbledore seem to be pointless. It's frustrating. I just want to remember all this."

He didn't really know what to say. He was never good with giving words of comfort.

"I can't imagine how hard it is, Hermione, but I think if you knew what I knew, you'd want to remember enough to keep going. To keep trying."

She nodded slowly. He liked that she seemed to be less opposed to the idea that she was in love with Draco at one point. Maybe she didn't need her memories for that to happen again.

"So, uh, Hermione," he began, not sure if she already was aware of what he were going to say, "you do realise that if you remember, you will most likely fall in love with him again, right? As in, all your old feelings will probably return." She seemed to think that she would be able to view the situation from an objective point, and then make a decision, when really, he was certain all her old feelings would come rushing back. It was good for Draco, but maybe not so much for her if she really meant what she was saying right now.

She made a disgusted expression. "I somehow think I'll have more sense now, Blaise."

She hoped.

Blaise merely nodded. She either had no idea, which he doubted, or she was still, somewhat, in denial.

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><p>After Potions that day, Blaise was exhausted. Not physically, just emotionally. Draco was still acting weird, and they'd spent the whole lesson in a tense standoff on either side of Potter. So Blaise had taken to watching Hermione for most of the lesson, or particularly the way she kept shooting anxious glances at Draco. The latter didn't seem to notice, as he was steadily avoiding even looking at the side of the room that she occupied.<p>

He didn't bother waiting for Draco as the bell rang. He merely gathered his things and left.

Hermione slowly packed her things as the bell rang. Neville stood by her side, waiting. But her eyes were concentrated solely on the blond boy across the room. He was lethargic in his movements, and slowly stuffing his books in his bag.

His eyes were noticeably dark underneath, and she wondered whether he was sick or just tired. She also wondered why she would wonder that. If he was tried, then good, if he was sick, even better.

"Are you coming?" Neville prodded after a moment. Her eyes snapped to his brown ones, and she was relieved that he hadn't seemed to notice the direction of her stare.

"N-no, you go ahead," she told him, lying badly through her teeth, "I've got to speak to Professor Snape."

Neville eyed her oddly. She didn't blame him, that was an unbelievable excuse.

"It's about extra homework. To help me catch up." She added, hoping to get him to leave soon. Draco had just packed his last book.

"Alright..." he said after a moment, still not looking that convinced, "I'll see you upstairs and we'll walk to dinner together."

She nodded, plastering a strained smile on her face. She was scared and nervous at what she was about to do, but when she saw Draco exit the classroom just seconds after Neville, she quickly swung her bag over her shoulder and followed quickly.

He turned down the opposite corridor to Neville, obviously heading toward the Slytherin common room. His steps were slow, and Hermione found herself going at a snail's pace just so she didn't run into him.

She was so focused on watching him, his slow lethargic movements, the way his bag swung back and forth as he walked, that she didn't see the large crack in the dungeon floor until it caught her shoe and sent her face first to the ground. Her books hit the floor around her with large smacks, and she grimaced as she heard the footsteps in front of her pause abruptly.

She didn't event want to look up, to see the expression that she would be met with. She was still expecting a scowl. A death stare. Something horrible.

However, after a moment of silence she turned her head upward to meet his shocked expression. He was staring down at her from a few metres away, looking just as nervous as she was.

She felt her face going red, and quickly began gathering her things. This was a ridiculous idea. She felt her hands shaking as they fumbled with her books, and they became even worse as she heard his footsteps approaching her. He paused in front of her, looking down at her small form bunched on the stone cold floor.

"Were you following me?" he asked quietly. His voice held no hint of disgust, accusation, or judgement. It was just a question he wanted the answer to.

She could feel herself going into her usual 'Draco-Malfoy-fight-or-flight' mode, and her heart was racing at an abnormally fast pace. Normally at this point she would've had a wand pointed at her, and she'd either panic and run, or stay and get hexed. She forced herself to remember that it wouldn't be like that anymore.

"I-I wasn't following you," she said quickly, tripping over her words, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Why?" He asked.

She looked up to find him rather close. He was standing, gripping the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He looked...confused. She would probably never get used to seeing such harmless expressions on his face.

"I have question's for you." She answered finally, trying to sound confident, however she was sure the shake in her voice and the blush on her cheeks told him she was scared to death.

"What sort of questions?" He asked, sounding hesitant.

"Questions about...us." She replied, hesitating on what to call it. It was true that it was about him and her, together, but she hated to use such an intimidate description.

She heard him swallow, as he reached down and grabbed one of her books from the floor. He seemed to take that as an invitation to relax. He must have liked her referring to them as one, just as much as she'd hated it.

She hoped that he wasn't expecting anything from her, but as she followed him into an empty classroom, she felt exhilarated. This was Draco Malfoy, and he was acting civilised, because of her. She wanted to let out a crazed laugh.

He sat on the Professors wooden desk, as she slipped into the seat at the front of the class. They stared at each other for a moment, before both looking away awkwardly.

"Um, well, I suppose I should just shoot." She said, feeling oddly flustered.

"Shoot what?" he asked, looking wary.

She almost laughed, but realised that probably wasn't a good idea. He was volatile. "The questions." She said.

"Oh," he muttered.

There was another moment of awkward silence before she spoke.

"Why did I love you?" She asked quickly. It was the one question she really wanted an answer to, but couldn't seem to find one.

He looked surprised at the question, and she supposed that he wasn't expecting her to want to know that.

He looked around the room, as though he were trying to find an answer. It was a good minute before he even attempted to answer.

"Because we went well together." He said after a moment, and she was glad he had at least tried to answer it. But she was also slightly disappointed at the conciseness of his response.

"That's it?" she prodded. "Mustard and tomato sauce go well together too, but that doesn't mean they'll get married."

It was a ridiculous thing to say, but when he cracked a small smile she was quite happy that she'd made a point. That is until he spoke.

"You want to get married?" he said, slightly amused. She didn't miss the glimmer of excitement in his eyes, either.

She shot up from her seat indignantly, ready to let him have a piece of her mind, but her words were lost as she winded herself on the edge of the desk. She rubbed her stomach, while glaring at him.

He wasn't looking at her, however, but was merely staring wide-eyed at the place her hand sat on her lower abdomen.

The whole scene reminded her of a certain recurring dream she'd been having lately, and that thought made her scared and extremely uncomfortable.

She pulled her hand away self-consciously. Draco blinked, before his eyes returned to hers.

"Any more questions?" he asked. He sounded subdued, now. She nodded.

"I still don't accept that first answer." She said, "I want to know why two people, who were so different, who hated each other so much, would suddenly fall in love. I mean, was there a potion involved, or a spell gone wrong...?" She trailed off, feeling exhausted at trying to figure it all out on her own.

Draco shook his head. "There were no potions, at least to my knowledge. I think after a while you stopped hating me for things and started liking me for them instead. You once told me you liked me even though I have a tendency to trip people over in the corridors." He smirked. "I suppose I was the perfect opposite to you. You're good, I'm bad. But we balance each other well. That's what I thought, anyway."

He stared off, as though he were reminiscing over memories that she no longer had access to.

"I would never think it's okay that you bully people," she said, feeling the need to defend her morals. He smiled to himself.

"You never did think it was okay, every time I did it you'd 'punish' me by not letting me kiss or touch-," he paused there, looking away. She supposed he'd guessed that she would be uncomfortable hearing that.

She swallowed, not sure if she even wanted to broach the subject further. "Did we...? You know..?"

He bit his lip, and it looked as though he were tossing up about whether to lie or not.

"Yes, we did." He said after a moment.

"You mean I'm not a virgin anymore?" She asked, feeling the anxiety well up inside her.

He merely shook his head.

She felt herself begin to panic. This was too much to find out and she shouldn't have asked him. She stood from her seat, feeling ill. He had been her first. He'd taken her virginity. She had slept with the boy she hated most in the world. She wanted to throw up.

"I've got to go," she said quickly. He looked as though he was going to stop her, but she raced out the door and didn't stop until she'd made it to the Gryffindor common room.

She fell onto her bed, waving her wand to pull the curtains around. It was then that she let herself succumb to the wave of tears that she'd held in the whole way there.

She wasn't a virgin anymore. She'd lost it to Draco Malfoy, and worst of all, she didn't even remember it.

She didn't stop crying until she fell asleep that night.

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><p>She avoided him for two days. He watched her in class, in the Great hall, and when he passed her in corridors. But she avoided him. She was still distraught over the news that she had lost her virginity to him; she'd given him something that important to her.<p>

However, the inkling of curiosity in her mind never left, and once she moved past her immediate emotional reaction, it only made her think. If she had given something that important to him, then she must have loved him back.

She wondered for a moment whether he had forced her, but knew she wouldn't have allowed him to get away with that.

No, it was definitely mutual, and it only fueled her intense curiosity again, which was what had her following him again after Potions two days later. She knew that he was aware of her presence behind him, and he merely stepped into the classroom they'd entered last time, without even acknowledging her. She followed him in and they both sat in the same seats as last time, staring at each other.

"Is this our thing now?" he asked, smirking with a twinkle in his eye. He was clearly in a better mood than he was the other day, she noted.

"We don't have 'a thing'" she said quickly, quashing his hopes before they even came up, "I just have more questions."

His smirk fell slightly at his words, but he nodded. "Shoot."

She stared at him oddly for a moment, before speaking.

"Why did you love me?"

He looked uncomfortable at the question, and she supposed he felt awkward at the thought of revealing his innermost feelings.

"Because you're not like me," he said after a moment.

"I was raised to hate you, and I thought I always did. But I came to realise that it wasn't hate. It was denial. I denied for so long that I was attracted to you, and for even longer that I could be in love with you. I made excuses about your blood, your upbringing, your nerdiness." She scowled, but he continued. "But I liked that you weren't like me. I liked that you were good, kind and loyal. So different to everything I'm used to. And I soon realised that I didn't hate you. I was just scared to admit that I...loved you. Still am, I suppose."

They were both staring at the floor, the intensity of his words were too much for either to handle.

"Oh," Hermione said weakly after a moment. She hadn't been expecting such a genuine answer, and in all honesty his words made her believe that maybe he did love her. Maybe he hadn't fooled her.

"But you still cared about my blood?" She asked after a moment, realising that was the most important thing.

He hesitated. "I don't hate you for it. I suppose I was just scared of the repercussions of being with you. This was one of them, wasn't it?"

He motioned between them, and she realised he was talking about her inability to remember anything. She would question him about that at some point.

"So no one knew about us?" She already knew they didn't, but she wanted to hear it from him.

"A few did. Our friends. But others, no, they didn't know."

She felt annoyed and wasn't sure why. "Don't you think it was all rather pointless then? I mean, why be with someone when you're too ashamed to tell people about being with them."

He stood abruptly, and his expression reminded him of one she'd seem many times. He was angry, and it scared her.

"I wasn't ashamed!" He growled. "You wouldn't understand. You never did. I needed time, that's all. Now I've got all the time in the world and it's fucking pointless isn't it? I don't want to sit here and talk about what we used to be, I want to be that _now_. I want to fucking touch you."

He was breathing heavily as he approached her; he knelt beside her and pulled her towards him. She attempted to cry out, but as she fell into his lap he pressed his lips heavily against hers.

It was an angry kiss, if that's what you'd call it. He was letting out all his pent up frustration over the situation, as though he were hoping that it would prove something to her. However, it only proved how much of an ass he was, and when she managed to free her hands she balled one into a fist and aimed it toward the side of his head.

It effectively stopped him, and she distanced herself from him immediately.

"You're disgusting!" She cried, "You're a pig! I would never in my right mind go anywhere near you!"

She fled the room feeling sick and angry, leaving him to stare after her with a shattered expression.

* * *

><p>Blaise and Potter were seated on their beds when Draco entered the dorm that evening. From his expression, Blaise could tell that his good mood had met its end, and once again he was depressed.<p>

"What's happened?" Blaise asked, as his friend dropped limply on his bed. Draco merely stared at the ceiling.

Blaise sighed. He knew the reason Draco would be upset; his world was going to shit at the moment, and he had no control over it.

He didn't bother speaking again, and merely turned his attention toward a Quidditch magazine that was sitting on the floor beside his bed. It was 9:36 by the time Draco spoke.

"I'm leaving," he said quietly, as thought they were finding out his plan at the same time he were deciding it.

Both Potter and Blaise looked up from what they were doing to stare at the blond.

"What do you mean?" Potter asked, looking concerned. Blaise had to hand it to the boy, since Draco's moods had become more unpredictable, Potter had really shown his true colours. He cared.

Draco let out a long breath. "There's nothing for me here. I'm about to marry a foul bitch, and the girl I love hates me and wouldn't care if I crawled in a hole and died. So I'm leaving before I get married. The first day of holidays."

Both Potter and Blaise stared at him with alarmed expressions. "You can't leave, mate!" Potter cried, "What about N.E.W.T.S? What about Quidditch? What about your mates?"

Draco didn't take his eyes of the ceiling as Potter spoke. Blaise had never seen him look so defeated. He was seriously worried for the teen. It was like something had snapped in his brain, and it was causing him to act out.

"What about Hermione?" Blaise asked. "She's been asking a lot about you. There's still hope, mate. You just need to be patient."

Draco sat up, his expression twisted into one of veiled hurt. "The problem is I'm not patient. I can't wait around for her, Zabini. Every filthy look, every nasty word, every time she ignores me...it hurts." He ran his fingers through his hair, his expression grim. "I never thought I would understand how much it hurts to be treated like that. But it does. I can't take that off her. And it doesn't matter anyway, does it? If I stay, I marry Pansy and I'd prefer anything other than that."

Blaise and Potter shared a look. They didn't want him to leave school, or his friends, or Hermione, but they knew deep down it was the only choice. But there needed to be a compromise.

"You don't have to leave though." Blaise pleaded, "These holidays, come to mine. We'll sort something out. Your father won't be able to get in because of the security, and you'll be safe there. It'll give us time to figure something out."

Draco shook his head. "It won't work-,"

"Don't say that until we've tried," Blaise said strongly. Draco stared at him, before finally letting out a defeated sigh.

Blaise took this as a good sign, and so for the rest of the night they planned.

Draco would leave for Blaise's during the holidays. He would stay there for the whole Summer, until they organised something. Potter decided he would come along as well, since his holiday would consist of him battling with his cousin over the TV remote. They hadn't planned as far as ahead as the new school year, but Draco was atleast agreeable enough to work with them up to that point. He even seemed slightly brighter at the prospect that maybe there was hope.

Day's passed, and the closer to the holidays they got, the more nervous the three boys were about their plans. They were about to go against Lucius Malfoy, but it was the only choice they had.

* * *

><p>They sat at breakfast one morning, chewing on their toast, when a fluttering owl landed beside Potter.<p>

"Weasley's pathetic excuse for an owl, I presume?" Draco asked, as the ball of messy feathers plummeted into their neighbours' bowl of cereal. He didn't look impressed.

"Yeah," Potter answered, picking up the saturated, and frantically squawking bird, "I asked Weasley if he was going to join us for the holidays. I imagine he'll say yes, especially since we'll have the whole mansion to ourselves."

He grabbed the envelope from the bird and ripped it open, his eyes scanned the lines, and Blaise and Draco watched as his expression turned from disbelief to complete and utter scandal.

"I don't believe it," he muttered, his eyes not leaving the page.

"What is it?" Blaise asked, taking a sip of his juice.

"That stupid git. That stupid, stupid git!" Potter continued loudly, causing his fellow housemates to stare at him with curious expressions.

"Would you just say what it says?" Draco snapped, clearly not in the mood for Potter's outburst.

Potter looked up his eyes wide. "He's gone and fallen in love with the muggle girl."

Draco snorted, as Blaise raised his eyebrows.

"That's pretty intense for Weasley," Blaise commented, "are you sure he isn't just infatuated with her boobs? That sound's more like him."

Potter shook his head. "Nope, it definitely say's here 'I've never felt like this for anyone before. I think I love her.' She must have fed him a love potion."

"She's a muggle," Draco reminded him, looking annoyed at the stupidity of his friend.

"Yeah!" Potter cried, pointing his finger in Draco's face, "A muggle that's good at potions. What's that about, huh?"

Draco scowled at the finger just inches away from his nose. "If you don't get your hand out of my face, I'll cut the damn thing off." He gripped his knife threateningly. Potter complied.

"This is ridiculous," Potter sulked, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is not the time for Weasley to go and fall in love."

Blaise shrugged. He didn't really see the big deal, other than the fact that Weasley had actually developed feelings for a girl that were more than just sexual. "I'm sure he'll move on soon enough, that is Weasley's way."

"Yeah, but it won't be the same without him," Potter sighed.

"Don't worry," Draco smirked, "I'm sure he still loves you more."

Potter scowled at the boy across from him. "Very funny, you git."

Blaise sighed. They had more important things to do than stir one another.

"It doesn't really matter whether Weasley's there or not." Blaise began in hushed tones. "The less people, the better. If we're all missing, it'll create suspicion. They'll assume Potter's at his muggle relatives, too. So in the end the only suspect will be me."

Draco and Potter didn't look as though that was the greatest idea.

"My father," Draco began, looking around before he continued, "if he finds out you helped me, and it's pretty obvious out of anyone that it would be you, he won't hesitate to find you and make you pay. If he can put his own son under the Cruciatis curse, imagine what he'd do to you?"

They were silent for a moment as they each thought of the possible consequences of their plan.

"It's worth the risk," Blaise said and he gave Draco a reassuring nod. The latter still looked uneasy about it, but merely nodded.

* * *

><p>It was later that day, as Blaise and Draco were heading towards their next class, that Blaise noticed a curly mop of hair in an adjacent corridor. Hermione was sitting on the window pane with her back against it, her head lulled back as if she were staring lazily at the ceiling. It was only then that he realised her eyes were closed, and she was fast asleep.<p>

Draco followed his gaze, and instantly a small blush coloured his cheeks.

"We should go wake her up," Blaise said, politely ignoring his friends' display of embarrassment.

Draco looked hesitant. "I'm sure I'm the last person she wants to wake up to."

Blaise rolled his eyes at Draco, and turned back to Hermione, wondering whether he should wake her. He realised she would probably prefer to be woken by him, and even Draco, than by the random snickers from other students.

He slowly walked over and tapped her on the shoulder, leaving Draco to follow hesitantly behind him. She jumped slightly, and blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the light coming in from the window behind her. She stood abruptly when she saw who was standing in front of her. She stared wide eyed at Draco for a moment, before turning to Blaise. Blaise noticed that Draco was looking anywhere but at her, and she was doing the same. He narrowed his eyes. What was going on there?

"I didn't even realise I'd fallen asleep," Hermione said quickly. She snatched up her book and tucked it into her bag.

"Yeah, we figured." Blaise smirked. "Do you always have a tendency to fall asleep in the corridors, though?"

Hermione blushed. "No, I don't." She said, stubbornly. "I've just not been getting much sleep, that's all."

Blaise sighed. "Hermione, please tell me you aren't working yourself into the ground trying to catch up on schoolwork? You most likely won't be made to sit your exams, given the situation. Just relax. Let school work be your last priority."

Draco snorted from behind him, and Blaise noted the way Hermione's eyes narrowed on the teen. He was effectively silenced.

"It's not school work," she said, still eyeing the blond with a threatening expression, "I've been having trouble sleeping."

"Why's that?" Blaise questioned, closely watching the interaction between the other two with a curious expression.

Hermione sighed. "Bad dreams," she looked away from Draco quickly and back to Blaise. "I suppose considering the disturbing events I've been through recently, it's not surprise."

She looked pointedly at Draco, and this time the latter maintained eye contact. He seemed unimpressed at her comment, though Draco could tell by the pink tinge on his cheeks that he was annoyed.

"Yeah, I can imagine-,"

"Are you sure they're nightmares, and not another sort of dream, then?" Draco interrupted Blaise, coolly eyeing Hermione.

Hermione looked confused for a moment, before her eyes widened with the realisation of his comment.

"You foul, arrogant git," she fumed, her eyes fiery. "You wish!"

"You're right, I do!" Draco snapped throwing his arms in the air, his eyes gleaming with some strong emotion. "I wish you had those dreams. Dreams that made you fucking ache to touch me, dreams that made you unable to concentrate on anything else because you're so distracted by the thought of me. I really do. But I get that things have changed, the thought of me disgusts you. I tried, I _fucking_ tried! Stop punishing me by rubbing in my face how much I fucking repulse you now!"

His chest was heaving, and his face was red by the time he had finished. Blaise stood staring in shock at his outburst. He hadn't expected that at all. He had definitely missed something. He turned to Hermione to find her staring rather shocked at the blond. She also looked scared.

Draco seemed to notice her fear as well, and he scoffed. "I can't take this." He muttered, before walking off down the corridor, leaving the other two to stare after him in shock.

Blaise broke the silence after a moment.

"Well...," he muttered, feeling rather awkward, "I wasn't expecting that."

Hermione was still staring at the end of the hall. Blaise was surprised by the look of regret on her face.

"He's right," she said quietly after a moment. "I am punishing him."

Blaise stared at her for a moment. "Did he do something...?"

"No." She said quickly, before letting out a wry laugh. "Well, of course he's done something. He's made my life hell for years, if that counts."

"I suppose it does." He agreed, wondering where she was going with it.

"I still hate him for it, and I still expect it from him, even though things have changed." She continued. "I know he loves me, and I suppose I've been taking advantage of it. I know it hurts him when I'm nasty and cruel. And I liked that he knew how it felt."

Blaise listened intently, as she spoke. She looked ashamed.

"This isn't me. I'm not like him, or like he was. I just- I don't even know what to think of him. I don't want to be this bitter person. I just want to get the answers I'm looking for."

Blaise nodded. "It's hard for you, when you don't remember anything other than how horrible he was, but he's my best friend, Hermione. He doesn't deserve this. Don't use his feelings for you as a way to hurt him."

"I wasn't even doing it on purpose," she said, honestly, "but a part of me just wants him to suffer."

Blaise sighed.

"He's been through too much for that. You don't know the situation he's in. He sacrificed a lot for you. I mean, I think one of the reason's he's being forced to marry Pansy right now is because of your relationship."

Hermione turned to Blaise, her brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He bit his lip, wondering if he should tell her, but decided that she needed to know these things.

"Lucius Malfoy found out about you. He...had a role in a lot that has happened."

She eyed him cautiously. "What do you mean exactly?"

"We think that, well..." he hesitated slightly, "that it was Draco's father that attacked you the night you lost your memories."

Hermione stared at him blankly, but he could see her mind ticking away behind her eyes.

"Wouldn't there be evidence if that was the case? Wouldn't he be in Azkaban?" She questioned.

Blaise shrugged. "We only strongly suspect it. And even so, Lucius is a powerful man. He's bribed his way out of prison before, during the first war. That's something not many people know."

Hermione scoffed, with a frown on her face. "Typical rich purebloods, buying their way out of everything."

"Hey," Blaise said, slightly offended. "Lucius Malfoy is different to a lot of us. His own son hates him, what does that say?"

"Malfoy hates him?" She asked quickly, looking sceptical. Blaise nodded.

"Absolutely despises him, really."

Hermione crossed her arms, looking slightly contented. "Well at least that proves he's not _that_ evil."

Blaise sighed. "My point is, Hermione, Draco's got a lot of stuff he needs to sort out, and he doesn't need you torturing him. You're like...the light at the end of the tunnel, I believe the saying goes."

Hermione nodded, looking torn. "I'm not going to be some trophy for him. And I'm not going to pretend I don't hate him, but I'll be civil. If only for my own safety." She added quickly. Blaise let out a relieved breath.

"But," she added strongly, "that means he has to act civil as well."

"I'll be certain of it," Blaise promised her. And just like that, he felt as though perhaps one problem was put to the side while there were more important things to focus on.

* * *

><p>Blaise waited outside the Potions classroom the next day, as Draco stood glaring at the wall next to the Italians head. Next to him, perched on his arm, was a rather pleased looking Pansy Parkinson. Blaise thought it was odd how she still looked so pleased even though she knew without a doubt that Draco hated her, and was being forced to marry her. The only satisfaction Blaise could get was to think of Pansy's expression when she was left at the altar. He smirked, before looking away toward the other end of the corridor.<p>

Hermione was approaching, alongside Neville. Blaise eyed Draco who was far too distracted by counting the stones on the wall, before steeping off the wall and heading towards her. Hermione, noticing his approach, gave him a stern expression. He merely paused next to her.

"Remember, be civil," he reminded her, "and if you can make that bitch Pansy furious in the process as well, it would be fucking priceless." He swiftly turned and headed back to his spot against the wall across from the ever-displeased looking Draco.

Hermione approached their small group, looking as though she were about to faint. But one encouraging nod from Blaise, and she paused in front of Draco. His eyes moved from the wall down to her, similar to Pansy and most of the Slytherins around her.

She swallowed thickly, before shooting the blond a large smile that Blaise was sure would have him in a daze for the rest of the day. Pansy's face was red with anger already.

"Good morning, Draco. How are you?" Blaise almost scoffed, but he supposed that a ridiculous ice breaker like that was typical from someone with as much social experience as Hermione.

Draco continued to stare at her, his jaw slightly open, before her muttered dazedly, "Good."

Blaise was sure it was the only word Draco could manage to get out, he looked utterly shocked. Much like the people around them.

Hermione smiled again, before nodding, and continuing on her way to class. She was ignoring the questioning stare from Neville beside her. As she slipped through the door, she turned her head one last time to shoot Blaise a glare. He smirked.

That would have been torture for her, but if it kept Draco in a positive mood long enough for them to carry out their plan successfully, he was sure all the glares in the wizarding world would be worth it.

And he was right; Draco didn't stop staring at her for the whole day**_._**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

_**...in which we are all victims.**_

* * *

><p>There was a wave of calm over the school as the end of year exams passed, and the holidays came upon them. The students boarded the train, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of seeing their families and friends back home over the Summer. It was a very different for the Silver Marauders.<p>

"So you guys are really going to do this?" Weasley chimed from his seat in their train compartment. He'd returned to school three weeks ago. Just in time for the exams, and to receive a good lecture off all of the Professors for his behaviour. He hadn't seemed to mind though, in fact, he'd been calmer and more subdued since his return. Of course he was still Weasley, but he had changed. It was the kind of transformation you had to owe to an influential female. He had been silently eager to see the muggle girl again and they all knew it; it was one of the reasons he was choosing to stay at the Burrow for the holidays.

Blaise nodded. "Yeah. It's the only option we've got."

"The only one that's worth even considering, anyway." Potter chimed in from his seat beside Weasley. They were inseparable once again.

Weasley turned to look at Draco, who was gazing out the window. His expression was calm, but they all knew that he was stressing about the whole thing.

"Aren't you worried about your dad finding you?" Weasley asked the blond. Draco merely shrugged, not taking his eyes from the view of the castle.

"He's pushed me into a corner," he said simply, "of course I'm not going to let him do that."

Weasley seemed to take this as reason enough, and stopped his questioning. They sat in silence, listening to the chatter from the other carts as students found their friends for the trip to Kings Cross station.

Blaise was staring out the glass of the panelled doors when he noticed a head of bushy hair moving past. It was always what he noticed first. The hair. He stood abruptly and pushed open the compartment door, shocking both Hermione and a young First Year who was walking behind her.

She dropped her satchel in her surprise, and Blaise bent down to pick it up.

"You wanna sit with us?" he asked casually. Her eyes widened even more.

While they had spoken a lot more over the last few weeks, Hermione seemed to still feel an extreme amount of discomfort around the group of boys. However, she had been the only motivating factor keeping Draco positive over the last few weeks, and Blaise was sure his friend wouldn't mind seeing her once more before the holidays.

"Oh. Well, I was meant to sit with Neville," she trailed off, glancing quickly behind Blaise at Draco. Her face was getting increasingly red. Blaise smirked.

"Come on, Hermione," he sweet-talked, "just sit with us for a few minutes."

She looked longingly toward the other end of the train, before turning back to Blaise. She bit her lip. "Ok, just a few minutes."

Blaise knew she didn't want to be there, but he didn't particularly care. And he took great pleasure in forcing her to take the seat between him and Draco. And even greater pleasure in watching her fidget awkwardly and Draco's eyes glaze over as he watched the side of her head.

"So, Hermione," he began, deciding to break the awkward silence that had overcome the compartment, beside the occasional snickers from Potter and Weasley, "do you have much planned for the holidays?"

Hermione shrugged, "Not particularly. I'll probably just catch up on school work."

There was muffled scoff from her side. She narrowed her eyes, but ignored it. Blaise glared at Draco over the top of Hermione's head.

"Sounds like you'll be busy," he said, turning back to Hermione with a pleasant smile, "be sure to relax though."

She smiled awkwardly. "I will." They sat in silence for a few moments. "Well, I should probably go and find Neville."

She stood and moved towards the compartment door.

"Enjoy your holidays," Blaise said. Hermione nodded, before slipping out the door.

Blaise immediately shot a scowl toward Draco, the blond narrowed his eyes.

"What?" He snapped, looking defensive.

"Do you want her to hate you? Stop snorting and snickering whenever she mentions doing school work in her spare time."

Draco smirked. "It's just such a 'Granger' thing to do."

Blaise sighed. "That's because she i_s_ Hermione, you idiot."

"Would you two stop bloody arguing?" Potter chimed in. "We've got a whole mansion to ourselves these holidays, and we have to plan how we're going to live it up."

Weasley narrowed his eyes. "I thought you were hiding away, not partying the whole time?"

Potter raised his eyebrows, "You think I'd let us spend the whole time hiding? No way. There's going to be Quidditch, and fire whisky, and lovely ladies-,"

"No ladies." Blaise interrupted. "We can't risk being found out, you git."

Potter sighed. "Fine, no ladies. But that won't stop me from going to them."

Blaise rolled his eyes. What had he gotten himself into? He postponed the argument for now.

* * *

><p>The train rolled into Kings Cross station some hours later. The platform was crowded, which was a good thing Blaise supposed. It would make it easier to get away. He had already summoned one of his House Elves to organise a port key for them to get back to the mansion. He checked the large clock on the station wall; it would go off any minute.<p>

"Let's go," Blaise muttered. They smirked at Weasley as he met his mother on the platform, and swept up a pretty blonde girl into his arms, but they didn't have time to meet the anomaly that had caught Weasley's eye. Instead, the three Silver Marauders began racing towards the nearest public bathroom to catch the Port Key in time.

They locked themselves in one particularly cramped stall, before Blaise pulled an old boot out of his satchel.

"What about our trunks?" Potter asked, as they all gripped the boot.

"They've got their own Port keys inside them," Blaise replied. "Get ready. Just a few seconds to go."

There was a sudden pull at each of their stomachs, as the Port key activated. The stall around them turned into a blur of rushing colours, and before they even had time to stable themselves in the momentum, they fell heavily onto a hard wooden floor.

Potter let out a dramatic groan as he rolled onto his back. "Thank god that only last's a few seconds."

There was a sudden flash above them as their trunks appeared moment's later.

Blaise quickly rolled to the side as his trunk came crashing down to the floor, however, it seemed that not everyone was as quick as he, as Potter let out a loud curse that could be heard all over the house.

"I'll never be able to have kids at this rate!" He bellowed gripping himself, as Draco and Blaise guffawed in amusement. It was probably true.

There was a sudden popping noise within the room, and they looked up to find two house elves staring at them oddly. One of them was wearing a pink pillowcase, which seemed far too big for her. She was standing partly behind another house elf who was wearing a similar pillow case in brown.

"Does Master Zabini need assistance?" The elf in the brown pillowcase asked, looking down at Blaise with wide eyes.

Blaise was still smirking, but shook his head. "I'm fine, Locci. But if you and Poppy wouldn't mind moving our trunks to our room's that would be helpful."

The elves quickly nodded, and moved forward towards the trunks.

"Has my mother been home recently?" Blaise asked, hoping to sound casual.

Loccy paused, before shaking his head, his big ears flailing as he did. "No, Master, Loccy hasn't heard from the Mistress for weeks."

Blaise nodded, swallowing deeply, as the two elves disappeared with their things. Her absence was nothing new, but news that his mother was ok, or even thinking of him would have been nice. There was a moment of silence before Draco spoke, obviously he sensed Blaises' discomfort at the subject, and wanted to avoid any awkward displays of emotion. Blaise was thankful for that; he had never liked vulnerability. Blaise hadn't even noticed the house elves return with a crack in the silence.

"Could you prepare us something for lunch?" Malfoy asked the two house elves, as he stood and moved toward one of the large Italian leather couches in front of a large fireplace. Blaise had always thought his mother had extravagant taste, and he'd always wished she'd been more modest about their wealth.

The room was a large sitting and dining area combined. There were shelves filled with family heirlooms, and other expensive decorations that his mother had picked up over her many years of travel. He had often wondered why she had bothered to bring them here; it wasn't like she was ever present to enjoy their beauty anyway.

Behind the lounges that were seated comfortably around the open, unlit fireplace, was a long oak dining table, with matching chairs all around it. It seated up to twenty people, but had rarely been used for more than two. Blaise never sat there during his time home; he would never tell Draco, but he ate most of his meals in the kitchen with the house elves, which was a large room through two wooden doors to the left of the fireplace.

The room was a dark wine red, which Blaise had thought ironic, since all of his family had been placed into Slytherin, and despised anything remotely Gryffindor related. He had noticed his mother was different, however. She seemed to be somewhat of a black sheep. She'd had a tumultuous relationship with her own parents, after her arranged marriage to Blaises father, and his eventual birth.

His grandfather had died when he was quite young. He barely remembered the man, except for the smell of tobacco that often lingered on his cloak. That smell often reminded him of his childhood. Ironically, it was that muggle habit that had eventually killed him. Cancer had sent him to the grave, and his pride and stubbornness had prevented him from seeking any health advice even after the diagnosis. He had continued to smoke several pipes a day, until he became too weak to even hold one up to his mouth.

His grandmother had always been a stern woman, even more so after her husband's death. Blaise remembered she would look down at him with dark, unfeeling eyes, and tell him to ensure he grew up to be a proper Pure blood, unlike his mother, who was becoming more and more distant by the day. He assumed that his Grandmother had known about his mothers many affairs with other men, especially muggles.

His mother had never agreed with the beliefs of purebloods. He often thought she was living in a dream world. So unhappy with her reality, that she created a new one that she liked better. After his father's death, which many had thought to be suspicious, she had made her absence more permanent. There was no one to force her to stay and live a dull life of a pure blood housewife. She was free. And that freedom had never involved Blaise.

He sighed. He hated being back here. It was so void of feeling. Just lonely, and depressing.

"Blaise," he heard Draco speak up from the couch, sounding thoroughly annoyed, "your house-elves refuse to do what I say."

Blaise looked up to find Poppy and Loccy looking uncomfortable at Draco's death stare from across the room. The teen was spoilt, that's for sure.

"It's because they only listen to my instructions," Blaise said simply, standing and moving toward the opposite couch where Potter had already seated himself. Draco looked annoyed and shocked all at once.

"And _why_ do they only listen to you?" Draco asked, crossing his arms, almost daring Blaise to continue.

"Because, I don't trust you gits." He said, before there was a sudden, undecipherable outburst of protest from both his friends.

He managed to make out some muffled argument about socks, and dishes, before Draco stood abruptly from the couch.

"So you're saying they won't do anything we say? Not at all?"

Blaise merely shook his head, his eyes half-hooded, showing just how much he cared about the subject.

"Why?!" Bellowed Potter, dramatically.

Blaise sighed, rubbing his temples. "Because. The only way to leave this house is with the company of one of these house elves. It's the only way to get in, too. I'm not having you use them to leave or bring people in here. Not while we're hiding. I know you two, especially _you_," he pointed at Potter's nose, who looked offended in return, "I'm not risking getting caught because Potter wants to get laid. We aren't leaving this house."

Draco crossed his arms, looking thoroughly pissed off. Potter looked much the same, although the half-guilty expression paired with it told Blaise that he was probably correct with his assumptions on Potter's behaviour.

"Too much time with goody-two-shoes Lovegood has turned you into a bloody bore," Draco muttered, glaring at the fire place. Blaise merely rolled his eyes, although the mention of the blonde witch had made him realise that it had been quite some time since he'd had a proper conversation with her. He would have to reconcile that at some point.

"Well I'm starving, and unless you want me set loose in your kitchen, I suggest you get these house elves to make something for lunch," Potter said, interrupting Blaise's thoughts. Harry looked genuinely concerned at the thought of himself having to enter a kitchen.

His Aunt and Uncle had once tried to make him do the chores, but Potter had been threatening them with his magical abilities since the age of twelve, and their ignorance of all the laws in the magical world had only made it easier for Potter to manipulate them. He hadn't done chores since he started Hogwarts. Blaise was sure he couldn't even boil water, with or without his wand.

"Fine," Blaise agreed, before turning to the elves, "Could you make us some lunch, please?"

Both the house elves nodded quickly, before disappearing again with a large crack.

"You're going to get sick of that," Draco commented from across the room, his expression far too devious for Blaise's liking.

"What are you talking about?" Blaise asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. He had learnt over the years not to trust that expression on Draco.

"You're going to get sick of having to ask them to do things for us. I bet you snap within a week."

Blaise scoffed. "Half the time I'm having to manage you gits' lives, so I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Both Potter and Draco looked beyond offended. Draco crossed his arms, sitting back against the back of the lounge. "A week," he reiterated.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Good luck with that."

Their stare-off was interrupted a moment later by a crack within the room. The house elves had returned with a platter of sandwiches. They sat the pile down on the coffee table between the two lounges, and immediately Potter began scoffing one down.

"I don't like chicken." Draco suddenly commented from across the room. Blaise looked up with a confused expression.

"You eat it all the time," he said.

Draco shrugged, looking stubborn. "Suddenly I don't like it. Could you tell them to get me something else?"

Blaise knew exactly what he was doing, and smirked. "Nice try, but no."

Draco sighed, looking dramatic. "I guess I'll just starve then."

Blaise barked a short laugh, "You ate breakfast! I think it takes more then a couple of hours for someone to starve, you git."

"Master Blaise," Loccy spoke up from next to him, looking far more concerned than Draco. He was tapping his fingers together nervously, "Master Malfoy is a guest. It's a houselves duty to ensure guests are looked after."

Blaise knew that his request to follow only his orders would be hard on the house-elves, and in what took a lot of strength to overcome his stubbornness, he allowed them to bring Draco a different meal, merely for their own sakes.

Draco looked too pleased as he bit into his freshly made sandwich. Blaise knew that this would be a terribly annoying experience.

* * *

><p>Hermione sighed as she sat down on her bed at home. It had been a long train ride to get there, and what felt like an even longer car trip. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. She had been studying too much in an attempt to catch up with her work, only to have her end of year exams waved until the new school term. She felt like she was getting more and more behind, and was extremely stressed at the same time.<p>

She couldn't help but think about the cause of this whole situation. The Daily Prophet had pinned it on a 'random attack', where muggles were the target, and she just happened to be there, but since Blaise had told her about their suspicions, she couldn't help but think that there was validity in it.

Lucius Malfoy was the perfect suspect. He had the power and money to get him out of trouble, or force others to do his dirty work, and he had reason to want to target Hermione. The situation would have been all too convenient for him.

It made Hermione angry. At herself, and at the fact that she thought Draco Malfoy was worth that risk. She was behind in school, the most important thing to her, because of some boy. It was an extremely out-there situation, but at the end of the day, that's what it was. She sighed.

She just wanted a normal life. Yes, she craved excitement, but nothing like this. Excitement to her involved travelling to far off places, collecting rare books, trying exotic foods and gaining all kinds of knowledge. Suffering from magic-induced amnesia had obviously not been part of her plan, especially not in such a critical part of her life.

She heard her mum call from downstairs. She had forgotten how much of a comfort having her family around was. It was really the only thing she could remember caring about before her memory loss. She wondered idly, as she walked downstairs, what they thought about it. She knew through their letters that they were appalled that the culprit hadn't been found and locked in Azkaban, but she wondered whether they were worried about how she was coping. She supposed they were. They were her parents. They would worry if she was too sad, and worry if she were unnaturally happy. She supposed that worrying was what they did.

When she reached the lounge room, she found her father staring at the television. He was watching a documentary on Australia. It looked interesting. Something she would normally join him in watching previously, but she was far too tired to take too much notice at the moment. She felt guilty for that.

Her mother was seated on the couch beside him. She was knitting what looked to be a scarf, while looking up occasionally at the television. There was a platter laid out on the small coffee table, of tea and biscuits. Hermione swallowed thickly. She felt like she hadn't experienced this type of emotion for so long. The feeling of being at home.

She sat down in one of the armchairs by the fire place, and grabbed a biscuit off the plate in front of her, before nibbling on it slowly. Her mother looked over at her and smiled.

"Guess who I just got a phone call from?" She asked. There was a light ring in her voice and Hermione could tell that she was in a good mood.

"Who?" Hermione asked, not even attempting to guess. Her mother knew far too many people. People that Hermione could hardly ever remember the names of.

"Margaret Rich!" Mrs Granger replied, her eyes wide with either excitement or surprise. Maybe a mixture of both.

Hermione stared at her mother blankly. The woman sighed in response.

"Come on dear, you were friends with her daughter in school. You remember Charlotte?"

"Oh," Hermione mumbled, her tone showing her lack of enthusiasm. Her mother had always been a positive person, so positive that she had mistaken the constant taunts of 'fat hiney Hermione' from Charlotte Rich as 'friendship'. During Hermione's early school years, before Hogwarts, she'd had no friends. At all.

Her mother, being quite her opposite had been blessed with many. Margaret Rich was one of them, and despite the obvious fact that their two children clearly hated one another, they insisted on forcing them together on a multitude of occasions when the two would have tea together. Hermione remembered the last time she'd seen Charlotte Rich. It was a week before her first year at Hogwarts, and the girl had spat chewing gum on Hermione's head, forcing her to cut part of her gigantic mass of hair into a weird fluffy fringe. Hermione sighed as her mother continued.

"Charlotte's eighteenth birthday is coming up, and when I told Margaret about what a rough year you've had- leaving out a few details, of course- she insisted that you go. Wouldn't that be fun?" her mother finished, smiling at her.

Hermione hesitated slightly, "Umm.."

Her mother's smile fell slightly. "I just want you to forget about things, sweety. You deserve to spend a little time being normal."

Hermione looked down at the half eaten biscuit in her hand. She wondered if that's what her mother wanted for Hermione, or for herself. Hermione often felt guilty that she had taken normality away from her mother. Instead of shopping for make-up and clothes, they were shopping for eye of newt and spell books. Her mother never faltered in showing interest, but Hermione knew it all overwhelmed her sometimes.

"I know," Hermione nodded, "but Charlotte and I were never friends. She was a nasty little-"

"Sweetie," her mother interrupted swiftly, eyeing her father awkwardly. "Charlotte has grown into a respectable young woman, I can assure you. Feuds when you were 11 will surely have been forgotten."

Hermione was sure that may be the case, but she still felt as though she were being invited as an act of pity. She, however, couldn't deny that she should at least try for her mother's sake. It would make her happy.

"I suppose," Hermione replied, still sounding reluctant. "I guess I could go."

The smile on her mother's face was huge, and the woman reached over to pat Hermione's knee.

"Lovely," Mrs Granger beamed, "we'll go shopping tomorrow."

Hermione groaned internally. "Lovely."

Maybe the holidays wouldn't be so relaxing.

* * *

><p>Blaise blinked slowly as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights coming through the windows of his room. He never kept his curtains open, so he knew that this was obviously some 'hilarious' ploy to wake him up from one of his annoying house mates.<p>

He cracked open one eye, to find both Potter and Draco standing in his room, both wearing extremely punch-in-the-face-worthy smug expressions. Not even the dark blue colour of his walls were enough to stop the blinding light of the sunrise as Blaise sat up. He lulled his head back against his pillow, eyeing them both with an unimpressed scowl.

"What are you idiots doing?" He spat. He wasn't a morning person, especially not when the sun was just rising.

"Potter needs to send a letter," Draco said, quite plainly, "and I want to get a copy of the Daily Prophet. Since your house elves don't listen to us, we had to come wake you to get it done."

Blaise sat up, letting out a long-winded sigh. "You can't send letters. There's no telling who could intercept them and read them. Given neither of you are supposed to be here, I don't really want to risk anyone getting curious. I'm sure I'm the first person they'd look for."

Potter was already sputtering in disbelief before Blaise finished his sentence. "Are you kidding?" He crowed, "Are you saying I have to stay shut in here with you two gits for three months, with no contact from the outside world."

"Yes," Blaise said quite plainly, before rolling over. He heard Potter growl loudly in frustration, and couldn't help the smirk that crossed his own face. Was it so wrong that he got enjoyment from this situation?

"You know," Draco began, "I could always just tell someone you kidnapped me. I could fauge a ransom note."

"Good luck sending it," Blaise shot back. His smirk turned into a full blown grin, before closing his eyes once more.

He assumed they both left, because the silence returned and he managed to fall back asleep.

However, it wasn't long after that when he was woken by the sound of loud, howling calls, and guffaws from downstairs. He hopped out of bed, feeling annoyed, before stomping out of the room and down the stairs into the large sitting room. He stopped in his tracks as he saw both Potter and Weasley whizzing around the room on their brooms, throwing a quaffle between each other. Blaise flinched as the quaffle went rather close to hitting the side of his head.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Blaise bellowed over the sound of their amusement.

They both slowed their brooms to a stop and glanced over at Blaise, who's tanned complexion had managed to turn a fierce shade of red.

"Having fun, considering the circumstances," Draco shot back. He threw the quaffle up and caught it again.

Blaise narrowed his eyes.

"You're in a room full of priceless heirlooms, and you're playing _Quidditch_?" Blaise spat at them.

Draco raised a brow. "Are you forgetting something? We can fix anything if it gets broken. It's called magic." Blaise was sure the blond had rolled his eyes.

He grit his teeth.

"That's beside the point!" Blaise growled. "I'm putting myself at risk by even having you gits here, and you're making it a living hell!"

"We're bored," Draco said simply, "we were simply finding some entertainment."

"And you couldn't find that some other way?" Blaise said, tight-lipped. He had done Draco a favour, and now he were acting like a spoilt child. His parents were probably glad he wasn't home.

"There's nothing else to do," Draco shot back. "We can't leave the house, we can't write to anyone-"

"Who would you write to anyway? _Pansy_?"

"-we can't even get the house elves to make us some lunch." Draco continued, ignoring Blaise. "We're going stir-crazy!"

"You've been here, what? Two days?" Blaise sputtered. Typical that they would over-exaggerate.

"What can I say," Draco shrugged, "I'm an out-doors kind of person."

Blaise snorted in amusement. "I do recall us being seven years old, and you screaming your head off because a bee landed on your head. You ran home and wouldn't go outside for three days. I can see how much of an outdoors person you are."

Potter barked out a laugh, as Draco seethed, his cheeks turning pink.

"The point is, even though we're staying away from my father, I don't want to hide." His face contorted into a fierce expression. "I'm not scared of him, Blaise. He could ruin my life, yes, but what kind of life am I living now?"

"Your life wouldn't be worth living if he found you now," Potter chimed in. "Soon, you'll be on the front cover of every Daily Prophet delivered to every Witch and Wizard's door."

Draco sighed. He stared at the wall for a moment, before his eyes widened and he turned to look at Blaise.

"Maybe _I _don't have to leave the the house." He said, with a grin crossing his face.

"What are you talking about?" Blaise sighed. He was ready to be done with this conversation, and go back to bed.

"Well, your mother has her potions lab downstairs, all we would need is someone's hair. What about Weasley's?"

"No way." Blaise said, shutting down the idea before it had time to develop further.

"Come on, Zabini," Draco egged on, "Weasley will be home all Summer, and you guys are going to look more suspicious if none of us are seen."

"At least if we are seen out, without Draco, people won't suspect us as much as they would if we were all missing." Potter added.

Blaise grimaced. He hated to admit it, but they had a slightly valid point. He hadn't thought much about an alibi, merely the goal at hand. But on the other hand, he didn't want to push it too far. Their safety was at risk if they were found out. Draco's father would be furious.

Draco's wedding was in five days, and he was a no show. It would be a scandal. Blaise was sure Draco's absence hadn't been made public. His parents were probably keeping a calm face, despite the fact that they would be seething.

"How long do you think it will be before my father comes knocking?" Draco asked. "Let's just kill two birds with one quaffle."

Blaise thought about it for a moment. It was true. If Draco's father came, it would be handy to have some Polyjuice potion on hand, just in case he sent a search party to retrieve his son. On the other hand, Blaise didn't want them to think this was all fun and games. That they could go and run amuck, and create suspicion, although he did have to admit, being locked up for the whole summer was quite suspicious already.

He hated the idea, but it made sense.

"Fine." Blaise caved with a sigh. The two boys opposite him began grinning, "But it's only happening once, and if you so much as put one step out of line, I'll send you both packing to find another safe-house, got it?"

They both nodded quickly.

"How will we get our hands on some of Weasley's hair?" Blaise asked.

Potter sat his broom against the lounge. "I'm sure there's a stray hair in one of our trunks, I mean he has been around our stuff all year."

Blaise nodded. "Fine, let's go have a look. But we need to plan this out properly. One outing, merely to gauge how far your father's going to find you, and to give us all an alibi. No funny business."

Both boys nodded, before running upstairs. Blaise hoped he wouldn't regret caving, but maybe he could finally get some peace. He lugged himself upstairs to help in the search for one of Weasley's fire-orange strands of hair.

* * *

><p>Hermione yawned, and eyed off a comfortable looking chair at the opposite end of the dress shop with interest. She had just taken a small step towards it, when her mother called out to her from behind a large rack of dresses Hermione would never want to be caught dead in.<p>

"This one is beautiful, Hermione! Try it on." She handed Hermione the dress and continued sifting through the rack for option number 34 for that day. Hermione sighed, before walking to the change room once more.

Her mother had been dragging her around this, and multiple other dress shops for hours. It was only the promise of visiting a large library that resided in the area that had made Hermione at least somewhat agreeable to the torture.

She slipped out of her jeans and shirt, and slid the white fabric of the dress over her head. She huffed before staring at the reflection. She stubbornly admitted that she liked the dress.

It was a soft fabric that hugged her curves but didn't give too much away. It was classy. Much more classy than the other hers mother had shown her that day. Sometimes she wondered, despite her mothers elegant demeanour, where exactly she got her taste from. She seemed to like being...out there, so to speak.

But this was a dress Hermione could see herself wearing comfortably, even if it showed a little leg. But leg was better than cleavage, she supposed. Not that she had much of that.

She slipped back into her clothes, and put the dress back on the hanger, before exiting the change room.

"How did you like that one, dear?" her mother said, barely looking up from a little black dress she was inspecting in front of her.

"I like it." Hermione replied with a smile.

"Great," her mother chimed, putting the black dress on the rack, "now we can get out of here, grab some lunch perhaps."

Hermione nodded. "There's a little cafe next to the library I wanted to visit, we could head there and I can have a quick look at the books."

Her mother nodded. "As long as I get my caramel latte, I don't care."

They both chuckled and headed on their way.

The cafe they decided to dine at was conveniently next to one of the best libraries Hermione had ever visited, other than at Hogwarts, of course. As her mother found a table for them in the crowded restaurant, Hermione ducked next door and was immediately drawn into the sea of silence and looming shelves.

It was such a peaceful place, that Hermione found herself breathing a little more quietly than normal as to not disturb the peace. She ran her fingers across dusty volumes, taking in the soothing smell of old paper and leather-covered books. She slid out one book that caught her eye, then another, and another. By the time she had done her rounds she had a pile of books that reached so high she could barely see over them.

She hoped she would be able to borrow this many on her account.

She was balancing her books tediously in front of her as she rounded the corner toward the desk, when she bumped into something hard, and both her and whatever that something hard was, went tumbling to the ground in a rain of books.

It wasn't until she found her balance that she realised that 'something' was actually a someone, and she had practically tackled them face first to the ground.

She fumbled her way up, apologising profusely. She could feel her cheeks getting redder and redder as she stumbled across her words. It was only when she saw the familiar face of a Hogwarts student glaring at her out of the corner of his eye, did she fall silent.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled one last time before standing abruptly and abandoning her large stack of books. It was rude, but Theodore Nott wasn't exactly someone she thought would be forgiving about practically being stampeded. He looked pissed enough, and she was sure being the Slytherin that he was, he was only going to get angrier- that was her personal experience, anyway.

What was he even doing here? This was a muggle library. She rounded the corner and saw the exit, thanking her lucky stars she had avoided that awkward situation, at least for the time being. She was sure he would get her back in a dark corridor at school. She grit her teeth, getting worked up at the thought. It would be his bad decision if he tried. She was sick of being pushed around by Slytherin gits.

She darted next door, not once looking behind her. The woman at the front counter eyed her with a curious expression, as Hermione ran out.

The doorbell of the little cafe rang as she entered, and she ignored it again as someone entered shortly after her. She looked around quickly, before spotting her mother sitting at a corner table, sipping a coffee and reading the national paper.

Hermione made her way over, and let out a deep breath as she slinked into her chair. Crisis averted. She picked up her warm mug of tea and took a long sip.

Her mother eyed her curiously.

"You didn't borrow any books?" She questioned, with a raised eyebrow.

"Um, well I-,"

"I think that's because she forgot them," a deeply amused male voice broke in from next to them.

Hermione looked up quickly, and felt like swearing out loud. Theodore Nott was standing beside their table, carrying the stack of books she'd left him buried in only a few minutes previous. Her face began to go red, from both embarrassment and annoyance. His face on the other hand looked smug, amused, and far too satisfied. This did nothing but confuse her, as far as she knew, she'd barely spoken to this boy.

Hermione's mother looked between them, trying to gauge the situation it seemed. Eventually, she must have given up and went for a more straightforward tactic.

"Thank you, dear," She smiled warmly at Theodore Nott. "Are you one of Hermione's friends?"

"No," Hermione said quickly, at the same time Theodore Nott had said 'Yes'.

"Well, friends is one way to put it," Theodore said, vaguely. "We know each other from school."

Hermione's mothers eyes opened wide with realisation. Hermione could only sit and watch as the most incorrect of conclusions was made. Wizarding boy, whom her mother would no doubt find 'cute', plus Hermione's red face, and her failure to mention Draco's name often enough only meant one thing: her mother had it all wrong.

"Oh, really?" Her mother said, a little too happily. "Well this is the first time I've met one of Hermione's _friends_ from school." She emphasised the word a little too obviously. Hermione was dying of embarrassment.

"Really?" Theodore looked aghast, though Hermione was sure it was put on. He was clearly amused by her discomfort. "Well, I'm glad to be the first."

He shot an award-winning smile at her mother and she knew all hope was lost.

"Why don't you join us for lunch?" her mother offered, clearly not sensing Hermione's attempts at telepathic communication from across the table. Hermione turned to him, staring wide-eyed.

Please say no. PLEASE SAY NO!

"Certainly," he answered with a charming smile, before grabbing a chair from a vacant table and pulling it up to theirs. Hermione sunk in her seat. This would be awkward.

And it was. The whole hour, he had Hermione's mother giggling like a wide-eyed school girl. He had the right amount of charm, modesty, and humour to charm any woman. Except he didn't. Hermione knew the truth. He was a git. A sneaky, manipulative, Slytherin git.

Hermione drifted out of the conversation and instead decided to stare out the window. She was staring curiously at a particularly funny dog trotting past with a bald man, when her mothers energetic shriek made her jump.

"You'd love the company wouldn't you dear?" Her mother looked far too ecstatic for her liking. "You were rather hesitant about it, but I'm sure you'd feel better if you went with a friend."

"Go where, may I ask?" Hermione said, trying to give her mother a subtle glare.

"To Charlotte's little get together, dear, haven't you been listening?" Her mother sighed, before turning to Theodore with a large smile. "Theo doesn't know many people around the area yet, so I thought it would be a perfect chance for him to meet some people his age. While I'm sure your grandmother is lovely, it must get, well, tedious."

"As lovely as that would be," Hermione began, trying to hold back her feelings of distaste, "I'm sure it's invite only."

"You're able to bring a plus one," her mother shot back with an excited smile, not noticing Hermione's subtle hints.

"It's just such short notice," She added, deciding a different route might be more effective.

"Oh please," her mother scoffed, "look how well he dresses! I'm sure he's got something appropriate."

"I meant travelling, mother," Hermione backtracked, running out of options.

"I'm quite happy to be the chauffeur," her mother beamed. She didn't get it. It was going straight over her head.

"Then it's settled," Mrs Granger said with finality, "I'll write down the details, and we'll see you then."

Her mother grabbed a napkin and a pen, and jotted down all the information Theodore Nott would need to make Hermione's life a living hell, before handing it to him with a smile. He took it gladly, much to Hermione's annoyance.

"Well, I best be off. My Grandmother will be expecting me back. It was lovely to meet you, Jean." Hermione gritted her teeth as Theodore stood, her mother followed suit.

"It was a pleasure, dear," her mother beamed, tilting her head to one side like she did when looking at something particularly cute. Ew.

They made their way outside and said their final goodbyes. Hermione's mother, in a rather unsubtle display, said she had 'forgotten' something at their table, leaving them standing outside the cafe together.

"Your mother is quite good-looking, Granger. If I had a thing for older women..."

"Shut up. Now." Hermione growled, glaring at him.

"You really are still as uptight," he mused, looking barely interested. "Well here, take these books. Perhaps next time you'll learn not to throw them at people."

Hermione crossed her arms. "I don't want them. And, besides, even I would've had to put some back, how did you even borrow them all?"

"I have a platinum account," he said simply.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I guess you can buy anything."

"Actually, it's from having a library account for over two years. Also because I return all my books on time."

Hermione was surprised but didn't show it, and instead crossed her arms stubbornly. "Why would you even be interested in muggle books?" She demanded.

"Just make sure you return them on time." Nott said simply, avoiding her question.

Hermione made sure she did. In fact, she returned them right after he left. She didn't need his help.

The woman at the counter looked up as she entered. She smiled.

"How can I help you dear?" She asked.

"I'd like to return these," Hermione replied. "They're not on my account. A...friend borrowed them for me about an hour ago, but I just realised I've already read them all."

The woman nodded, before taking the receipt. "Ah yes, Thomas was just in. Lovely boy. I'll just put these through."

She began to scan the bar codes, and Hermione stared at her, puzzled.

"Thomas? I don't think that's the correct account. It should be under a Theodore Nott."

The woman looked up at Hermione, and for a moment something odd glittered in her chocolate brown eyes. The were framed by faint wrinkles, and Hermione assumed she must have been the same age as her own mother.

After a moment, the woman blinked, before reading the receipt "No it's definitely Thomas Smith. I'm not sure where the confusion could be..."

Hermione swallowed. Why was Nott lying about his name to a _library_?

"Maybe he used a different card..." Hermione said weakly.

The woman merely smiled, as though it didn't really matter anyway. She smiled once she was done, and Hermione gave a short smile back. For the first time ever she'd left a library empty-handed, but with a whole new feeling toward Nott: suspicion.

* * *

><p>"I look hideous," Draco dead-panned, staring into the bathroom mirror. "Why does Weasley have to be so funny-looking."<p>

"Some would say you're a bit funny looking," Potter retorted. "I mean, you're basically an albino."

Draco glared at him, and Potter merely smirked.

"Would you two shut up?" Blaise snarled from the next room. He had been putting up with their offensive retorts toward one another all day, and he was tired and stressed.

Potter left Draco to stare at his new ginger reflection in the bathroom, and sat on the foot of Blaises bed.

"What's your problem?" He asked the Italian.

Blaise sighed, annoyed that Potter would even have to ask. "Well for one, we're going to get caught tonight. Diagon Alley will be packed tonight because Howard Fluxwood is signing autographs in Flourish and Blotts until 9 because of his autobiography release. Every wizard and witch will be there, therefore, going tonight is a _bad idea_, and I know you two planned it, so don't act innocent." He glared at Potter as he stood and headed toward his wardrobe. Potter merely stared dumbly back.

"Look mate," Potter began, his eyes wide and innocent. "I don't even know who Howard Fluxwood is. How would I even know that?"

Blaise turned from searching through his closet, to glare plainly at the bespectacled boy, "You have five of his records in your trunk." He seethed.

Potter looked away guiltily. "Pure coincidence. Besides, we already used all the ingredients for making this fresh batch of Polyjuice potion. If we don't go now, we wont be able to."

"Does it look like I care if we go or not?" Blaise shot back.

"Loony might be there? I bet that would make you wanna go." Potter cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"It's _Luna," _Blaise corrected sharply, "and fuck you."

Potter stood. "Well, I can see you're in a fabulous mood," he said sarcastically. "Hurry up in there, Draco! Before this git changes his mind!"

Blaise scowled. He had a bad feeling about tonight; a really, really bad feeling. He could only compare it to the bad feeling he had gotten moments before hopping on the broomstick during Quidditch practice where he had nearly died.

Maybe he was being paranoid. He most likely was. Or maybe not. He didn't know whether it was paranoia or instincts. How could you tell?

"Ok, we're ready,"Potter chirped, far too happy for Blaises liking.

Blaise finished buttoning his shirt, not really caring about how he was dressed, before calling the house elves.

He took a long breath.

"Could you take us to the Leaky Cauldron?" He asked Loccy, barely believing he was actually going through with it..

The house-elves grabbed their arms, and with a crack, they landed in the Leaky Cauldron. They made there way out the back door and tapped on the brick wall. As the bricks shifted and moved to allow their entry, Blaises eyes widened at the sight.

Diagon Alley was bustling. There were people on every square-foot of the cobble-stone street.

"Fuck," he cussed under his breath.

"It's ok," Potter assured them, "It's just you, Weasley, and I venturing out to get Howard Fluxwood's autograph. We haven't seen, or heard from Malfoy since we left Kings Cross station."

Blaise admitted they probably didn't look as suspicious as he felt, but he couldn't help wondering whether someone would see through there facade.

They stepped into the bustling street, and immediately Blaise spotted someone he didn't want to see.

"It's Lucius Malfoy," he hissed at the others.

They immediately scanned the area for a sight of the Malfoy patriarch. And it seemed, they weren't the only ones keeping an eye out. Just as Blaise looked back at the blond's scowling expression, he noticed it was now directed at him. And he wasn't the only one.

"Fuck, he's coming over." Potter mumbled trying his best to look nonchalant, though a light sheen of sweat had appeared on his forehead.

"What happened to your plan of staying calm?" Blaise asked, though he was too worried to be amused.

"Fuck the plan," Potter spat, "let's get away from him before he talks to us."

"It'll look more suspicious if we do that," Draco chimed in for the first time. "Just stay calm and stick to the story."

They stood in the bustle of the crowd, pretending to not care that Lucius Malfoy was making his way over, most likely to question them.

As his looming, cloaked figure suddenly appeared in front of them, Blaise moved his eyes away from the shop front he had been focusing on, and up to meet the pale, scowling face of Lucius Malfoy.

"Good evening, Mr Malf-"

"Where is he?" Lucius interrupted, his eyes penetrating into Blaises, as if he were trying to detect the smallest hint of guilt. It was a good thing he wasn't focusing on Harry, he was swallowing nervously, and continuously rubbing the sweat away from his top lip, despite it being quite pleasant weather out.

"Where is who?" Blaise replied, quite calmly. He was used to Lucius' intimidating demeanour, and it was easier to stand his ground calmly because of all those summers spent in his presence.

"Do not patronise me, boy." Lucius warned in a low growl. "Where is Draco?"

Blaise shrugged. "I haven't seen him since we said goodbye at Kings Cross Station."

Lucius' gaze grew more dangerous. "Lying is not the smartest thing to do in the current state of things, Mr Zabini."

Blaise ignored his threat. "I assumed Draco was at Malfoy Manor preparing for his wedding to Pansy Parkinson."

Lucius stared at him, his expression growing increasingly psychotic. "The boy has run off like a coward. Abandoning his family duties. And I believe you already knew that. So let us cut the act. It would be in your best interest to tell me where he is voluntarily, before I have to take more...drastic measures."

Blaise understood the seriousness of the threat, and he had to admit it worried him knowing how capable Lucius was of following through. But he could hear the sound of Potters nervous breaths, and could feel the tension radiating from Draco's current freckled frame, and he knew they were in too deep. If one went down, they all went down.

"I already told you, I last saw him at the train station." Blaise repeated, being decidedly vague.

Lucius scowled, before turning his eyes onto Draco. Blaise wondered if he could somehow see through the disguise of the Polyjuice potion, but knew it was impossible. It had been a strong batch, and Draco had drunk a few glasses.

The Malfoy patriarch then turned to Potter, who by this point was practically shaking in his cloak. Blaise knew Potters suspicion might put them at risk, and noticed that Lucius' eyes narrowed slightly. But he looked away moment later, back to Blaises dark eyes.

"I gave you a choice," Lucius stated smoothly. He turned moments later and stalked through the crowd, barging past people as he went.

"What do you think he's going to do?" Potter asked a second later, his voice anxious.

"I don't know." Blaise answered honestly. "He might try to get into my house, but he wont succeed."

"And what if he goes to my house, or Weasleys?" Potter crowed.

"Well he will probably turn your relatives into rats, and he will see nothing suspicious at Weasleys."

Potter stopped with his questioning, but didn't look any calmer.

Blaise sighed. "This was both of your ideas to come out here tonight. I didn't want to risk it. Of course we would see at least one person we didn't want to, but we dealt with him. All we can do is hope he thinks Draco just skipped the country."

"I _want_ to skip the country," Draco chimed in. "It's you guys insisting I stay."

Blaise raised one eyebrow, "Oh and you would just run off and leave Granger here to be pawed at by Wayne Hopkins?"

Draco scowled at the thought. Blaise was satisfied enough that he had ended that thought.

"Lets just do something fun," Blaise suggested, figuring they were already here, "It's going to cost me an arm and a leg just to replace those ingredients in my mothers potion closet, so we best make the most of this polyjuice potion."

"If I didn't look like a git it would be easier." Draco mumbled, tugging at his Bulgarian National Quidditch team T-shirt.

"It would be suspicious if you didn't dress like Ron." Blaise replied.

"It was the only shirt of his I had accidently packed." Potter chimed in, "Plus, that's a great team."

Draco gave Potter a withering look, before turning back to Blaise. "Lets go."

They wandered through the crowd chatting idley; however, each were thinking about the odd glint they had seen in Lucius Malfoy's eye as he had turned to walk away.

* * *

><p>Hermione crossed her arms in front of her, and tapped her foot on the ground as she leaned against the hallway door-frame. Her mother was preening herself in the mirror, 'making a good impression' she had called it. Hermione knew it was merely because she adored Theodore Nott, who would be arriving in a few minutes.<p>

"If he even shows up," Hermione muttered to herself. She thought the idea that a pure blood Slytherin would want to be surrounded by a 'mud blood' and a bunch of muggles was ridiculous. He must be bored over the summer, and torturing her was obviously a passtime they enjoyed.

She was already dressed in her little black number, and after her mother tried tugging on her hair a few time to get the knots out, she gave up and merely told Hermione that the 'messy curl' look was in this season. Hermione wasn't sure how true that was, but she had no one to impress anyway.

Her mother finally entered the room, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. She was wearing more make-up than usual, and she looked great.

"Mum, are you sure _you_ don't want to go out with Theodore?"

Her mother chuckled. "I'm merely making a good impression, dear."

Her father hadn't been too pleased about the whole thing, and sat grumpily in his chair glaring at everything in sight over the top of his newspaper.

Hermione sighed, "Mum, I already told you. I don't like him. It's not the boy who was sending me gifts over Christmas. First of all, I don't remember that, secondly, I don't even know what the gift was. Thirdly, I don't like him."

"Oh don't be silly, dear, he lovely. And gorgeous," She whispered low enough for her husband not to hear. "That boy who was sending you gifts will just have to accept that you are a woman in demand, and you wont wait for him."

"Mum!" Hermione cried, hating that her mother had just referred to her as a 'woman in demand'. "I don't want anything to do with any of them. They're all gits."

Her mother turned to her, with a pleading expression. "Hermione, dear, it wont hurt to go out and have a fun night with a boy. You might even enjoy it." She smiled, before her face turned serious again. "Now let's apply a little make-up just to brighten you up."

Hermione was dragged to her mothers vanity, and coddled for the next ten minutes, until there was a knock on the front door.

Her mother hurriedly added a final touch of hairspray to Hermione's wild curls in order to control them (Hermione had conveniently forgotten to mention she knew spells for that; why should she make an effort?) and then she fixed her own hair quickly. Hermione raised an eyebrow at that.

She was then dragged into the living room, where Theodore Nott stood smiling like a movie star, despite the fact that Hermiones father stood a few feet away, arms crossed, giving him threatening looks.

When the two women entered the room, both men turned toward them. As they both appraised Hermione Notts eyebrows raised and his jaw dropped slightly, her father's expression was like he was about to demand she stay home and change into a dressing gown. Hermione hoped he would, but one glare from her mother silenced any protest.

"Oh, Theo, dear!" Her mother exclaimed, "You look simply handsome!"

Nott was wearing simple muggle formal attire, which she supposed was also common in the wizarding world, so it didn't shock her that much. His black suit pants, matched the dark vest her wore over a shirt. He had rolled up the sleeps, which Hermione assumed was an attempt to look more casual. Overall, though, she thought he might be a little over-dressed compared to the other males attending the party.

"Thank you, are you attending as well, or are you this stunning all the time?" He said with a charming grin. Mr Granger scowled.

"Now you listen here, young man," He said, shaking his finger in front of Theo's nose. Nott didn't look intimidated. "If you get my daughter in trouble, it will be a decision you regret. No alcohol, no drugs, no...touching." He added, with a harsh glance towards Nott.

Hermione nodded, knowing full well she wouldn't partake in any of that anyway. Nott, once again, looked unshaken.

"Certainly, sir," He said politely. He knew how to play it.

Mr Granger looked put out by the lack of fear and stuttering that he assumed his harsh tone would instill in the teenage boy, and merely gave him one last suspicious look, before heading back to his chair and newspaper.

Mrs Granger cleared her throat, before handing Hermione her purse. "Now come along dears. I'll drop you off at Charlotte's"

"You won't be staying will you?" Hermione asked, trying not to sound too worried. The last thing she needed was her mother watching her and Nott all night, while making subtle remarks about what a lovely couple they'd make.

"No," her mother replied, grabbing her coat, "Charlotte's mother and a few of the other members of our book club are having dinner at this lovely little place on Burberry Avenue."

"So they won't be supervised?" Mr Granger jumped in from across the room, looking displeased.

Mrs Granger sighed. "Charlotte's older brother will be there. He's very responsible."

Mr Granger still looked concerned, but sat back in his seat slowly, knowing there was no point arguing with his wife. They left several moments later.

After an awkward car ride, listening to her mother chuckling like a school girl at Notts anecdotes, Hermione was glad to be free as they stepped out in front of Charlotte's home. It was the typical home you would expect of a lawyer; large, bricked, and looking more like a small villa then a home. There was lights on inside, and Hermione could hear the sound of laughter, and classy piano music playing from the house. Not exactly what she imagined an 18 year olds party to be like, it was more like a fancy dinner with the Queen.

"Well isn't this a suave little get together," her mother commented, awed as they walked down the path lined with fairy lights and sculpted hedges.

"It really is." Blaise replied. Though Hermione thought she saw a look of distaste on his face. He was probably displeased at the thought of being around so many muggles. Why had he even insisted on coming? She certainly hadn't wanted him to.

The doors to the house seemed to open for them as they reached the end of the path, and Charlotte's mother stepped out.

"I thought I saw your headlights," Margaret Rich said, "We're all here and ready to go. Our reservation is in half an hour."

"Wonderful," Jean Granger replied. "Oh, and you remember Hermione. And this is her friend Theo."

Margaret turned to Hermione and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. She clearly wasn't the little fuzzy haired, buck-toothed girl she was before. After gushing about Hermiones 'beautiful' complexion, face, hair, how slim she was, and how well mannered she was, Hermione was quite glad when a group of other women forced them out the door and to their reservation for their book club.

Hermione stood awkwardly at the door, not realising that Nott was watching her with a bored expression.

"Would you just walk inside already?" He huffed after a second. Hermione took a deep breath before entering the house. She was nervous that tonight would be awkward.

The interior of the large house was decadent to say the least. There was expensive furniture, artwork, and even a chandelier.

She looked to her left and saw a chocolate fountain situated on a table, surrounded by fruit.

"How tacky," Nott commented, looking in the same direction. Hermione sighed and walked further into the house.

There were several people dressed rather fancily standing around, talking and laughing. Some glanced at her as she passed, other were too enthralled in their conversations. Maybe Nott had gauged the classiness of the event, as he wasn't over-dressed at all. She entered what she assumed was the dining room, and again, her mind was blown.

Situated to her left was a tower of glasses filled with champagne. The bubbly liquid was flowing down the tower like an expensive, decadent waterfall, into the champagne glasses below. Hermione wondered why there would be so much money spent for an eighteen year olds birthday, then remembered that Charlotte had always been rather spoiled. She wondered if the girls personality reflected that now. Almost as if to answer her question, she heard a soft voice speak from behind her.

"Hermione?" The voice questioned, curiously. "Hermione Granger?"

Hermione turned toward the sound, ready to smile politely and try to avoid insults from Charlotte, but instead her words were caught in her mouth, and she stood open-mouthed, staring at the girl who was nothing like Hermione had imagined.

Charlotte's face still had the same porcelain complexion it always had, her cheeks were still round, and she barely looked eighteen. However, that was the only recognisable part about Charlotte. The girl was not the spoilt-looking, high-society, rich princess Hermione had expected to see. Instead, she saw a girl with a blonde pixie haircut (something she never thought Charlotte would do, considering she'd always been vein about her long hair); she was dressed in a button up shirt, with a blazer over the top, and tight pant with a floral print. Surprisingly, the pants were the only hint of 'girlishness' Hermione found in the whole outfit. She stared, dumbfounded.

"Close your mouth, Granger, you look like a fish." Nott commented, boredly, causing Hermione to collect herself, with extreme embarrassment.

Charlotte let out a breathy laugh. "It's quite alright. It's a common reaction for people who haven't seen me in years."

"I just-," Hermione began, "You're just so...different to what I expected."

Charlotte nodded understandingly. "Yes, I know. I guess you could say a lot has changed in the past six years."

Hermione looked around at the extravagant house, before resting on the champagne fountain. "Well, _some_ things."

Charlotte laughed again, though she looked a little awkward at the lavishness of it all. "Would you believe I actually protested against the idea? This whole party, well, I guess you could say it's a sham."

Hermione furrowed her brow, looking toward the numerous people in the other room who were laughing and talking jovially. She couldn't help but notice, despite it being Charlotte's party, that she was not involved in any of the shenanigans.

"Would you mind if we caught up for a bit?" Charlotte asked hopefully, her blue eyes glittering. "I know I was terrible to you when we were younger, but I promise, my appearance isn't the only thing that's changed."

Hermione nodded, curious to hear the story of Charlotte's transformation, before turning to Nott.

"Don't hex anyone." She warned under her breath, eyeing him sharply. He merely raised his brows in a challenging fashion. Hermione sighed, turning back to Charlotte.

She had grabbed two glasses of champagne, and directed Hermione toward a small door toward the back of the kitchen. "The porch outside should be a quiet place to talk," Charlotte said, holding out one of the glasses to Hermione. Hermione took the glass, knowing she wouldn't drink it anyway, for fear of her fathers wrath.

The two girls headed out the back door, leaving Nott alone with the muggles.

The porch provided a fantastic view of their large, forest like garden. Hermione remembered going there as a child, and running through the tree's, pretending she was lost in the jungle. It was peaceful to look at, especially at night when it was lit up with more fairy lights.

"Your boyfriend is quite handsome," Charlotte commented, before sipping at her glass.

"He's not my boyfriend." Hermione said quickly, destroying the idea at once. "He's merely a boy I know from school."

Charlotte nodded, obviously taking Hermione's word for it. "That elite school, right? I remember when my mother told me you were going there, I hated you so much out of jealousy." Charlotte chuckled, obviously over those feelings now.

Hermione merely nodded, not wanting to delve to far in the subject of her schooling.

"Yes," Hermione replied with a nod, "I still remember the chewing gum in my hair."

They both looked at each other, before chuckling.

"I am so sorry," Charlotte replied, looking faraway, "I was such a brat back then. I was so...lost. If it makes up for anything, you are one of the reason's I'm the person I am today."

She looked truly grateful, but Hermione wondered what their childhood 'friendship' could have done to influence Charlotte's life.

"Do you remember that time our mothers took us to that fair in the field behind Hunter street?" Hermione nodded, remembering the time well. "I still think back to that often, because I remember, there was one magic show in particular. The man had a small white mouse, and he was making it disappear. All the kids were in awe, but I remember you wouldn't have a bar of it. Not because you didn't like magic, or because you weren't having fun, but because you didn't like the way he was flinging the mouse about in its little box."

Hermione stared wide-eyed at Charlotte, surprised that she remembered that.

"And when he was done with the show, you stomped over to him, demanding he hand over his mouse, or you were going to call the authorities on him. The man just stared at you, so shocked to hear that coming out of a nine year-olds mouth."They both began laughing at the memory.

"He ended up giving me the mouse," Hermione finished, smiling. However, that wasn't actually the case. It had been one of the first times her magic had shown by accident. One minute she was demanding the mouse from the man, the next minute it was in her coat pocket.

"But it wasn't just that display of strength," Charlotte added, "It was the way that no matter how much your mother yelled at you to give it back, or to let it go, you wouldn't. You just flatly refused. I remembered at the time I thought you were strange, but now I realise, your whole life you did what you thought was right regardless of what anyone thought, and it took me so much longer to do the same."

Hermione stared at her, noticing how her eyes had begun glistening, but also feeling like a hypocrite, because lately she had been so worried about what people thought, mostly in regards to Draco.

She turned back to Charlotte, who had a lone tear running down her cheek.

"Charlotte, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, worried it had somehow been their talk that had upset her. It was the girls birthday, and Hermione didn't want her to be upset.

Charlotte wiped her cheek, and let out a small laugh.

"It's so funny how the world works. It can give you everything you need to fit in," She said, looking around at the large house, "but then it throws something at you that will surely make certain you don't"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, wondering where the story was going.

"You know what I was like when I was younger," Charlotte replied, sniffling, "I was a bully. There was something inside of me that made me angry, but I never knew what it was. I was the most popular girl in school, because those who were as mean as me admired me, and those who weren't, were scared of me. Boy's would declare their feelings to me constantly, and I would turn them down, not even knowing why. All my friends were so jealous of me, and I didn't care, because I knew I was different, and the things they cared about would never matter to me."

Charlotte took a long sip of her champagne, before letting out a long sigh.

"When I was sixteen, I went to stay at my best friends house for the night. We snuck a bottle of her mothers facvourite wine into our room and got drunk. We ended up kissing, quite a bit." Charlotte said, pausing slightly, and looking awkward. She sighed.

"When we woke up the next day, my friend was extremely cruel and wouldn't talk about it, and all I could think was how much I wanted to kiss her again. And then I realised the thing that made me angry was that I never knew who I was. I liked girls, and as soon as that became apparent enough for me to say something, my mother began trying to set me up with all of her friends' sons, my friends wouldn't speak to me any more, and I went from ruling my world, to being a victim of it. I let my mother push me into awkward dates for months, I let my friends make up vicious rumours, all because I was too scared to fight for what was right. I was too scared to fight for the mouse."

Hermione stared at her, shocked by her confession. It was the last think she had expected. Charlotte, who had always been so confident, strong and fiery, had become a victim.

"Every time I feel weak, I think of that time at that fair. And it helps me. I owe you so much, and you wouldn't even know unless I insisted that you were invited tonight. I needed to apologise for everything, and thank you for everything. I know you probably live your life by your own strong morals and feelings. I like to think I'm somewhat like that now."

Hermione faked a smile, before turning toward the garden.

She didn't know what to say. Charlotte looked up to Hermione because of her strength, morals and ideals, but Hermione felt like a fake. She didn't feel strong at all.

If Charlotte had seen her at Hogwarts, she would think differently. Hermione had been bullied for years, barely sticking up for herself the whole time. Then, if only to make things more pathetic, she had fallen in love with the boy who had tortured her. Then, his father had gone and attacked her, wiping her memories from existence.

"Charlotte, I'm not the person you think I am," Hermione confessed. She relayed the story, leaving out the magical aspects. By the end of it, she felt depressed about everything once again.

Charlotte merely shook her head smiling, "Don't you understand, Hermione? Life isn't just about arguing with everyone, and holding grudges. At the end of the day, you were strong enough to say a big 'Fuck you!" to that boys father, and even though he tortured you for a long time, he was strong enough to stop and accept that he did it for other reasons, and you were strong enough to let go of that, and accept his love. You didn't go for a bad person, Hermione, you went for someone who made mistakes. Only the weak hold grudges. You are smart, if you love him, it's because he deserves it."

Hermione wondered if that was true. She had loved Draco, according to everyone, and despite her own reasoning that she must have been nuts. Hermione was smart, she was logical. And she loved him, so he must have deserved it. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to have her memories back just to see how true that was.

She opened her mouth to thank Charlotte for her advice, but they both jumped at the sound of breaking glass. It was so loud it had to be a window...or the champagne fountain. Oh no.

Both girls raced inside, to find two boys tussling in a mound of glass. The remains of the champagne fountain.

Hermione recognised the dark hair of Nott, and immediately began yanking on his shirt to get him away from the other boy, who was sorely losing. There was a crowd of people around watching, there faces a mixture of shock and interest. Hermione, in her struggle, slipped on the large puddle of champagne on the floor, and immediately felt the glass slicing her legs.

Charlotte grabbed her arm, and helped her back up, but Hermione could still feel the glass poking from her legs.

A man that Hermione recognised as Charlotte's older brother, barged through the crowd and grabbed Nott by the back of his shirt, yanking him off the other boy quite easily. He dragged Nott, who Hermione could now see was covered in bloody cuts himself, to the front door and outside.

"I should probably go with them," Hermione told Charlotte, furious at Nott, but knowing she had to take care of this incident before her mother got back.

Charlotte nodded in understanding, "It was good to see you again, Hermione."

"You too," Hermione managed to smile, before walking with difficulty after Nott and Charlotte's brother.

Hermione found the two boys outside, Nott was standing grumpily, while Charlotte's brother berated him loudly.

"...You young idiots can't stay out of trouble! Wait here while I get the car." He began calling out to someone inside.

Charlotte's brother turned and headed toward the garage, obviously getting the car to take Nott and the other boy to the hospital.

Hermione limped over to Nott, and it was only then that he noticed how bad her injuries were, however, right now she was too mad.

"What were you thinking?!" She cried, feeling the urge to strangle him. "I asked you to stay out of trouble!"

"I'm thinking, we get out of here," Nott replied gruffly, grabbing her arm. Hermione felt a sickening tug at her stomach, and a loud crack. Before she could protest, she was gone from Charlotte's front lawn, and instead, she was standing in a damp alleyway, next to a potent trash can.

She pulled her arm away from his hand roughly. "What are you doing?! Where are we?"

"I'm saving us both from getting in trouble," Nott said vaguely. "I'm not getting treated at some muggle hospital, I'd rather do it myself."

Hermione didn't like the sound of that, and especially didn't like when Nott grabbed her arm again, dragging her out of the alley, and around the corner.

It was then that she realised where they were. The were out the front of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Why did you bring us to the Leaky Cauldron?" Hermione demanded, starting to feel her legs buckle beneath her from the pain. She limped along behind Nott as he entered the seedy pub.

"We're not staying here, we're going to Diagon Alley," Nott answered briefly, walking steadfastly through the crowds of drunk, smelly wizards. Hermione could see his hand were bleeding profusely, and some of the wizards in the bar were eyeing them with interest.

"Why are we going there? Everything will be closed at this time of night," Hermione shot back. It was nearly 9, and if they were anything like muggles, they would have closed up shop hours ago.

"Lucky for us, there is a famous wizard signing autographs tonight, so all the shops are open until 9 to accommodate for the crowds. If we hurry, we can make it in time to pick up some Essence of Dittany."

Hermione's eyes nearly popped out of her head, "That stuff is expensive. I haven't got any Galleons on me." She had only brought muggle money out with her.

"Well, good thing I came prepared," Nott replied.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, as Nott tapped his wand on the bricks to open the passage to Diagon Alley.

"I wasn't exactly planning on being kidnapped and taken to Diagon Alley, you know." She shot back.

They stepped through the doorway, and Hermione was surprised to see quite a few wizards around, carrying freshly bought packages, and bustling about.

"If we hurry, we'll get there in time." Nott told her. "But by hurry, I mean run."

"I can barely walk," Hermione informed him. Her legs were killing her and every step felt like she was being stabbed. Though technically, she was.

He turned to her, "Wait here, then. I wont be long."

Before Hermione could protest, Nott had run off into the crowd. Hermione could kill him, but thought she should at least wait until her legs were healed. She found a nearby bench and resigned herself to picking out pieces of glass from the back of her legs, flinching every time. Each one caused more blood to rush out from the open wounds, and Hermione could feel herself becoming woozy at the sight.

"Hermione," She heard a concerned voice speak from in front of her. She managed to tilt her head upwards, and blinked a few times until the image was clear.

It was Blaise, Weasley, and Potter. Before she could open her mouth, Weasley stepped forward, and kneeled in front of her.

"What the hell happened to you and why are you with Nott?" he demanded, his blue eyes staring into hers intently.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "I'll fucking kill him."

Hermione wasn't sure whether her mind was playing tricks on her from the injuries, and consequential wooziness, but she was incredibly confused about why Weasley was showing so much concern toward her.

Blaise and Potter grabbed the red head by the shoulder and yanked him up off the ground.

"Sorry about that," Blaise muttered.

"He's drunk," Potter added, with a weird chuckle. "Right, _Weasley, _you've had a bit too much to drink, haven't you?"

Weasley didn't look drunk, but he continued to stare at Hermione strangely, so she assumed it must be true. She wanted to ask where Malfoy was, but didn't want them to think she even cared.

"So what happened to you?" Blaise asked, looking at her with concern.

"I'm fine," She assured him, though she was sure she didn't look it. "Nott just got us in a bit of trouble."

"What sort of trouble?" Weasley snarled, looking around for Nott's appearance.

As if on time, Nott walked into view, and his expression turned deadly as he locked eyes on the other teens.

"Typical that if Hermione is here, her dogs will sniff her out." Nott spat at them.

Weasley lunged at the boy, only to be held back by the other two.

"Calm down, idiot, you'll make a scene," Potter hissed at him. "Your father is here, remember."

Hermione wondered why Weasley was afraid of his father, but noticed he calmed down slightly at the warning.

Nott scoffed in amusement, before kneeling down beside Hermione. He pulled out a bottle of Dittany, but paused halfway.

"You bodyguards can shove off now," Nott snarled at the boys, "You weren't invited on this date."

Hermione protested loudly, at the same time Weasley lunged, but once again he was held back by his comapnions. Nott merely smirked, satisfied that he'd gotten a rise out of at least one of them, though he looked confused as to why it was Weasley.

"We'll leave you alone," Blaise said, wondering if it really was a date. They both certainly looked the part. However, he couldn't risk Draco's outbursts any longer, it was only a matter of time before something slipped out to give away that it wasn't actually Weasley.

The group of boys left reluctantly, pulling Draco away with them, but Draco insisted they stay nearby, in case Nott tried something. There was no point in convincing him otherwise, he wouldn't move an inch from the front of the shop only several yards away.

"You nearly blew our cover, mate," Blaise told Draco, trying to control his anger. "If Nott found out that you are actually Draco, do you think he would keep quiet? Your father may be able to stop the newspapers from reporting, but it's common knowledge that Draco Malfoy is missing. Nott would take great pleasure in telling your father where you are, it would be bad for all of us."

Draco nodded, still staring at Hermione. "I know. I just-she just...makes me lose my common sense. I mean, look at her. She's gorgeous. And look at him," he growled, motioning toward Nott, "he's a fucking pervert. He's touching her leg!"

Blaise grabbed Draco's shoulder, pinning him back against the stone wall. "He's healing her wounds," Blaise tried to reason. Anything to stop him from storming toward them and punching Nott's lights out.

"That should be me," Draco said, bitterly. "I should be the one that looks after her."

Blaise couldn't stand Draco's mood. He was being weak.

"He's only doing it because he caused them," Blaise replied, "He probably doesn't care at all otherwise."

Blaise only assumed that was true, but it seemed to calm Draco down slightly. They continued watching the pair from their place a few yards away.

* * *

><p>Hermione hissed as the Dittany seeped into her wounds. It stung badly, but she supposed it was better than having scars, like the muggle way would leave.<p>

She watched Nott's face, as he concentrated on her wounds. It was blank and emotionless. Typical. He didn't even feel bad for causing them.

"You know, an apology would be nice," She said. "You did ruin my night."

"You can thank that git of a muggle for that," Nott replied.

"He wasn't a gentlemen." Blaise replied vaguely.

Hermione raised a brow in disbelief, "So you're judging other people on that now?"

Nott merely ignored her, and continued applying the Dittany. Hermione, however, was curious.

"What did he do?" She asked.

Nott sighed, like it was a big effort to answer. "He was drunk and making rude comments about the females there, and groping at them inappropriately. I said something, he pushed me, I punched him, he fell onto that ridiculous champagne fountain. End of story."

Hermione merely stared at him. She didn't want to agree that he'd done the right thing, because he hadn't, but it was admirable that he had stood up for the females, even though they were muggles. He had helped someone, probably in the wrong way, but still. However, her stubbornness would not allow her to admit that, so instead she settled for, "Violence is never the answer."

Nott merely rolled his eyes at her diplomatic response.

As Hermione thought about the puzzle that was Theodore Nott, she remembered what had happened at the library the other day. When she had returned the books, they were in a different name.

"Why is your library account a different name?" She asked. "You said you'd had the account for years."

"I have." He replied, only answering part of the question.

"There why is it under a different name?" Hermione questioned again. She was determined to find out.

"Because it just is," he said, standing abruptly. He sprinkled a drop of the Dittany on his hands and rubbed them together. He pocketed the bottle. "Lets go."

"Is it because you're worried your parent's will find out you're visiting a muggle library?" Hermione asked. If his family was like most purebloods, they would forbid him from seeing muggles. Perhaps he had been sneaking out this whole time. Tonight...

Her thoughts were interrupted by a derisive laugh. Nott should his head, looking bitter. "You have no idea how ironic that question is."

Hermione furrowed her brow, "Why?"

Nott sighed, and looked around, as though something in them would help him decide whether to tell her or not.

"I'm not exactly sure you Gryffindors are able to keeps secrets," he said.

So it was a secret?

"Who would I tell?" Hermione asked, wondering who would possibly have an interest in his secrets.

"Your guard dogs," He said simply. Hermione knew he was referring to the Silver Marauders.

"I know when to keep my mouth shut," She replied, hoping it would be enough.

Nott appraised her for a moment, and he seemed to take her word for it. He sighed.

"That woman in the library is my mother."

Hermione stared at him, shocked. She thought back to the woman in the library. There had been similarities between Nott and her, but only subtle ones. And she never would have imagined it would be something that big. She thought that maybe he wasn't allowed to read muggle books, be near muggles, something ridiculous like that. But this was big. And it meant one major thing.

"That means you're not a pure blood."

Nott rolled his eyes, "I already figured that out a while ago."

"And you never said anything to anyone?" Hermione asked, feeling annoyed that he would deny his own blood. She was a muggle born and despite being made to feel unworthy her whole life, she was proud that she had achieved so much.

"My father forbids it," Nott replied. "He knows I'll get more respect as a pure blood, being in Slytherin. He tells everyone my mother died during childbirth."

Nott looked down at his feet, and Hermione suddenly realised that he was a victim of his world. Just like her, just like Charlotte. Just like everyone.

"I don't understand. Why would he lie if she's alive?"

Nott sat down on the bench beside Hermione, and stared ahead.

"When he was younger, he ran away from home. My Grandfather was an abusive man, and my father couldn't take it. He managed to hide from them for a year by using a lot of Polyjuice potion." He looked almost amused at that part of the story. "However, he met a muggle girl, and I was conceived. She didn't want to move around a lot, so they stayed put. It was my fathers biggest mistake. His parents found him when I was born, they erased my mothers memories of my father, and of me. They said they had been lenient. My father accepted his life as it was, they made up a lie about my mother, and here I am."

It bothered Hermione how little emotion he showed when talking about it. Were all Glycerins so casual about such things. The only emotion they ever seemed to show freely was anger.

"How did you find out?" Hermione asked, wondering whether time may have just eased his feelings about it.

Nott leaned back against the bench, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Well, I was born in a muggle hospital, obviously. It was easy to sneak in and go through the records. I found my mothers name, and tracked her down. I went there and made an account the first time, just so I could talk to her. But even though I knew she wouldn't know of my existence, I couldn't tell her my real name. I confronted my father sometime after, though he still doesnt know I go there sometimes."

Hermione didn't really no what to say. Despite how bad she felt for Nott, she couldn't help but think that this might explain his attitude toward people. Having the person you care about so close, but knowing you could never actually openly care about them would be hard.

It suddenly occurred to her that it was probably how Draco felt. Though, the part of her that was logical was convinced he deserved it.

This was different. Nott had been a victim. What was wrong with purebloods? Did they enjoy destroying everyones happiness?

"You should probably go and clean up," Nott suggested, nodding towards her newly-healed legs and interuppting her thoughts. "I think your parents would hex me if you came home covered in blood."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the thought, "I think you're forgetting my parents cant hex."

"Right," he replied, realising his slip. "Lucky me."

Hermione headed off toward the bathroom that was situated behind a nearby shop. It was a dark area, and she felt uneasy not having her wand on her even though it was opnly several yards away from the still-bustling street. She splashed water on her legs, thinking how pointless it was to have bought this new dress, only to have it wasted on this evening.

She looked in the bathroom mirror, and wiped away a small speck of blood that had managed to find it's way next to her nose. When she thought she looked respectable enough to face her parents, she stepped out, closing the door behind her. She jumped as a dark shadow shifted around the corner, and she began walking back to the bench at a fast pace. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

She couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when the bench came into view. Notts pale skin was glowing in the lamp light above it, and she noted that the streets were emptying as people apparated and flooed home.

At the sound of her footsteps, Nott looked up towards her with an unreadable expression. He must have been thinking about their previous conversation. However, within seconds, his expression changed. His eyes widened, and he shot up from the seat.

What happened next felt like it was in slow motion.

Nott yelled out her name, and began racing toward her, his eyes not on her, but on something behind her. Hermione turned on the spot, her curly hair flying about.

She instantly felt a rush of terror, as she came face to face with a dark-cloaked chest, and looking down at her was skeletal face. A mask. It was a Death Eater.

Hermione turned to run, but a large hand grabbed her around the neck, choking her. Another hand covered her mouth, just as she opened it to scream. She could hear Nott yelling her name, and to run, but she couldn't move. He was holding her too tightly.

She felt a sickening tug in her stomach, and the world started to morph into a blur. The last thing she saw before the loud crack rang out, was Nott's look of complete terror and his arm reaching out to her, just a few inches away.

* * *

><p>Blaise sighed, as he leaned against the cool stone wall behind him.<p>

"We need to go, mate," He said to Draco for the fiftieth time. "We've run out of Polyjuice potion."

He shook the empty flask once more. At this rate, there wouldn't be enough to get to the Leaky Cauldron.

Draco simply ignored him, again, and continued glaring at the sight of Nott and Hermione. Blaise could practically hear the sound of his teeth grinding together.

"Look at that git, trying to hit on Hermione," Potter scoffed, "He's probably only doing it because he hates you two."

Blaise and Malfoy both turned to glare at Potter.

"You're really making things better, you idiot," Blaise drawled, his eyes narrowed on the bespectacled boy.

Potter didn't seem to mind the sudden hostility toward him, in fact, he was staring at Hermione in a calculative fashion. "You know, it's surprising that she turned me down, and now she's got a thing for Nott. I'm better looking then him."

Draco turned his head to glare at Potter, seething. "Is your mouth connected to your brain?"

"I was just thinking out loud!" Potter defended with a simple shrug.

Blaise was about to butt in, but stopped, when a large tuft of blonde hair appeared on Draco's head.

"Great. Just great." He muttered, feeling annoyed that he hadn't just told them to shove it and dragged them home. "The Polyjuice is wearing off. You're turning back into Draco."

Draco turned toward him, and within seconds his face warped from a freckly, mischievous red-head, into a cool, calculating blond again. Blaise sighed, removing his jacket.

"Cover your head with this, we're going." Blaise ordered.

"I'm not leaving until I make sure Herm-," Draco stopped short, turning abruptly toward the bench. Nott and Hermione were gone. "What was that? Where are they?"

"I heard Nott yelling," Potter informed them, looking worried. "He was calling Hermione's name."

Before any of them could say another word, Draco had raced out into the street, and in the direction of Nott's cries. Potter raced out after him, and despite Blaises better judgement, he knew he had no choice but to follow.

They found Nott pacing and swearing to himself around a dark corner. He was running his hands through his hair. On the ground sat Hermione's bag, it's contents spilled out.

"Where's Hermione?" Draco demanded, grabbing the other boy by his collar. He was shaking, and Blaise wasn't sure whether it was from stress or anger. He couldn't blame him though, something bad had gon down.

"Fuck off!" Nott swore, scowling at the other teens, though he looked distressed about something.

"Just tell me where she is!" Draco snarled back.

Nott let out a derisive laugh. "Oh, right, you act all concerned about her, but you were the one that fucked up her life in the first place, aren't you?"

Draco fell silent. He obviously wasn't expecting that.

"Because of you, she doesn't even remember anything." Nott continued, "The only benefit for her is that she forgot a git like you."

"Is this about Ginny?" Blaise interrupted, knowing Nott had roundabout ways of revenge.

Nott fell silent for a moment, looking as though his brain was going a million miles an hour. "You wanna know where your precious Granger is? A Death eater took her. Now she's your problem again."

He barged past Draco, but the blond pulled him to a halt.

"What do you mean a 'death eater'?" Draco asked, his face was somehow paler than usual.

"Let me see," Nott began, in a patronising tone, "black cloak, skull mask, kidnapping muggles. The usual kind. I'm sure Granger will be happy to know you're going to rescue her. Although, you were gutless enough to go into hiding at the thought of marrying Parkinson, not sure how well you'll handle Death Eaters."

Nott gave one last sardonic glare toward Draco, before turning and leaving. However, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Standing just feet away, were two more four claoked Death Eaters. Nott grabbed his wand, but he wasn't quick enough. The Death Eater threw a hex at him, sending him falling to the ground, hopefully only unconcious

The three boys turned fully. Blaise could feel Potter moving toward the wand in his back pocket, and he wasn't the only one to notice.

"Try anything and you'll be next," One of the Death Eaters warned him. He glanced at Nott, and decided he would rather not be hexed.

"What do you want?" Blaise asked them, though he was sure he already knew.

The Death Eaters moved forward and the boys stepped back.

"Your little blond friend here has a guest waiting for him at home," The Death eater said, his tone was patronising and dangerous. "We've come to get him."

"He's not going anywhere with you," Blaise spat angrily. He could feel the magic crackling inside him, and was itching to grab his wand.

"Lets just say, her life depends on it," The masked wizard replied.

Blaise could see Draco tense up. "Dont you fucking touch her."

"Can't make any promises," The death eater goaded in a low growl "She's good-looking for a filthy mudblood bitch."

Before Blaise could stop him, Draco had lunged forward with his wand out. He shot a hex at one of the Death eaters, but he reflected it. Several spells hit the group of boys seconds later. Blaise saw Potter fall to the ground, limp. Draco was fighting with all the anger he had in him, but it wouldn't be enough.

Blaise felt a spell hit him in the chest, and he fell to the ground, feeling his heart rate beat out of rythym. The world around him was going blurry, and getting darker. He could hear Draco spinning of a round of different spells, one blurred into the other, before he began swearing.

"Get the fuck off me! Let me go!"

Blaise tried to grab his wand, but it had been flung away somewhere. He collapsed to the ground, breathing raggedly. As his lids fell shut, all he could hear in the silence was his heavy breaths, and a single loud crack of disapparation.

Then everything went black.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please dont kill me for the fact that it took forever to get up. If I had my way, I would spend all day everyday writing, but if I did I would be homeless and living in a box.  
><strong>

**Hope you enjoyed. More to come. Please be patient.**

**-Leeni**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

_**...in which hearts stop.**_

* * *

><p>A pained groan in the surroundings brought Blaise out of the darkness. He opened his eyes and saw Potter sitting a few feet away, rubbing his forehead. There was a small gash spilling blood down his cheek, but he hadn't seemed to notice that yet. He began feeling around the ground for his glasses.<p>

Blaise pushed himself up off the ground, feeling his muscles ache as he did so. It must have been a powerful hex he was hit with, because his whole body was screaming at him. He looked past Potter, and saw that Nott was also just coming out of his short coma. He couldn't see Draco anywhere. They must have taken him.

"Potter," Blaise spoke, his voice a small croak. Potter continued squirming in pain. He'd discovered his wound and was now frantically wiping the blood away. Ironically, it was only inches away from his other infamous scar.

"Potter, are you ok?" Blaise repeated, more urgently this time.

"I think a hex hit him on the side of his head," a deep voice said from a few feet away. It was Nott. He was sitting up, looking worse for wear, but uninjured. "I didn't see at the time, but it looks like the wound is right above his ear. It means all he is probably hearing right now is a ringing sound."

Blaise stared at the other boy a moment, before turning back to Potter. He was still grimacing.

"Do you have any more Dittany left?" Blaise asked.

Nott put on a steely expression, "Why should I give it to you?"

Blaise felt the anger rush through him, "Because given the current fucking situation, I think old feuds can be forgotten."

"You think just because we got attacked together that we're going to bond over the experience?" Nott spat.

"Just give me the fucking potion!" Blaise snapped, racing across the ground like an animal and grabbing the boy by the collar.

Nott scowled. He reached into his pocket and grabbed the small bottle, before tossing it to the ground. Blaise, breathing raggedly, gave him one last look, before grabbing it and racing to Potter.

He undid the stopper and poured it on Potters gaping head wound, and a drop in each ear. Potter was still shaking, even as the potions effects were felt, and his wounds healed.

"Potter," Blaise demanded, "can you hear me?"

The bespectacled boy eyes were hooded as he nodded. "Yeah. Thought I was deaf for a moment there."

Blaise let out a sigh, and sat roughly back on the hard ground. That was one crisis averted. Now they had bigger things to deal with.

He looked at their surroundings. It was dark still, so they hadn't been out for long. Maybe an hour or so. He was certain that it was Lucius who had taken Draco and Hermione, and could only assume they were being held at Malfoy Manor.

"We need to find Draco." Potter said anxiously, "Granger as well. They're probably being tortured as we speak."

Blaise knew that it was an all too likely scenario. He stood abruptly, ignoring the dizziness that overcame his vision. "We need to get Ron. The more of us, means a less likely chance of getting hexed again."

There was an amused snort from beside them. Nott was standing, brushing dirt of his dark clothes, looking more than amused.

"What's so funny?" Potter demanded, defensively.

"You two, acting like a couple of Gryffindors, "Oh, I'll be a hero and save the day, blah, blah, blah." He mocked, shaking his head in amusement. "You should just accept, that unless those Death Eaters let your friends go, then you stand no chance."

"Not all of us are wimps," Potter snarled, taking offence at the comparison to a Gryffindor.

Nott just rolled his eyes, not reacting to the insult. "Whatever."

He turned to leave them to their planning, when Blaise grabbed his shoulder roughly. "Where do you think you're going?"

Nott made a mock-thoughtful expression, "Well, I was going to go chase some Death Eaters, but I'd much rather just go home, eat some pie, and be done with this night."

He turned again, but Blaise once again stopped him. "You think I'm actually going to let you leave? For all I know, you helped in this little plan, why else would you be out with Granger? Seems like too much of a coincidence."

Nott stared at him, "You can think that if you want, but you can think it while I'm at home, eating pie."

He attempted to shove past them again, but once again, he was blocked.

"For someone who took Granger out on a date, you surely don't care much about what happens to her." Potter accused, crossing his arms and glaring from behind his glasses.

Nott looked between them, as if he were expecting the punchline to come next, when it didn't come, he let out a frustrated groan. "Merlin, I only went out with her to piss off Malfoy, which worked. If I got lucky, well that's just a bonus." He smirked.

Blaise grit his teeth, resisting the urge to deck the git. "Seems like a lot of effort, just to piss of Malfoy. I don't believe you."

He wasn't sure if he did or he didn't, but there was no way he was letting Nott leave them with this mess that he had helped cause. If Hermione hadn't been there, she would never have been taken. And she wouldn't have been there if it wast for Nott's reckless behaviour.

"I'm sure you've got better things to do than investigate me," Nott replied. "Don't you have to run off and play hero somewhere?"

"We do," Blaise answered, ignoring the snide remark, "But I'm not letting you get away with this."

Nott furrowed his brow in confusion, but before he could say anything, there was a loud crack, and Blaises house elf, Loccy, appeared.

"Loccy could tell Master was summoning him," he said, looking proud of himself.

Blaise gave him a small smile. "Loccy, I need you to go home and pick up Potter's invisibility cloak from his trunk, then bring it straight back."

"Good idea," Potter chirped in, as the elf nodded, and disappeared with a loud crack.

"So you're going after them." Nott realised, his voice filled with malice, "Don't think I'm fucking going with you. I've got better things to do than get on the bad side of a group of Death Eaters."

Blaise stared hard at Nott, "Well, I'm not letting you out of my sight until Hermione and Draco are safe, so that means _you're coming."_

At that moment, Loccy appeared again, with Potters invisibility cloak folded in his tiny arms.

"Here, Master. Loccy is happy to help Master with anything." The elf said, with wide, enthusiastic eyes.

Blaise continued eyeing Nott, but spoke to Loccy. "I need you to take us to Ron Weasleys house, ple-"

"I'm not going anywhere with you gits," Nott spat angrily, stepping away, his face contorted with fury. "Fight your own battle."

Blaise thought for a moment. Not only did he believe that Nott might have something to do with the abduction, he didn't want to let him leave, knowing he knew their plan. It was strange for him to think that he might have willingly volunteered because of some feeling of guilt over Hermione, but he had been wrong.

He was never normally one for blackmail, but he had no choice.

"If you don't come with us, I'll make sure everyone knows you're not a pure blood."

Nott looked confused first, then his expression turned to one of realisation, then trepidation.

"How did you hear that?"

Blaise hesitated, "I didn't hear it. I already knew it."

Nott opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. He stared at Blaise with a defeated expression.

"How did you already know? No one knew." He looked nervous.

Blaise sighed. He would never really tell anyone, nor did he think it necessary to explain how he knew.

"My mother was friends with your father at Hogwarts. He had told her, before he left with your mother, that he had fallen for someone deemed...unsuitable by his parents. Then you were born, and suddenly your father was back, claiming your mother had passed away. My mother had her suspicions that he had been with a muggle, hence the secrecy around it. I read it in my mothers old journal when I was twelve, It was only a couple of years ago that I realised what it meant, or mostly, that it even mattered."

Nott narrowed his eyes, though he looked pained. "You knew that whole time, and you never said anything?"

Blaise shrugged. "Why would I bother?"

"I certainly would've bothered." Potter spat, frowning at Nott. "But unlike him, I don't think being a half-blood is all that bad. I mean, look at me, I survived the killing curse."

Blaise sighed internally. He would never stop bringing that up.

"My point is if you don't help us, everyone will know by the beginning of the school year, whether they care or not."

Nott stared at him, as though he were calculating the seriousness of the threat.

"Unless you don't care." Blaise said, knowing full well that he did, "In that case, I guess that means no more alliance with your usually group, because as you well know, they don't speak to anyone with less-than-pure blood."

Nott looked pissed, but Blaise could also see a defeated expression on his face. In all honesty, Blaise wasn't sure whether Nott had anything to do with the incidents tonight. But even so, one extra wand wouldn't hurt, especially against Lucius Malfoy.

"Fine," Nott spat. He crossed his arms, and grit his teeth. It was enough for Blaise. He turned toward Potter.

"Now, we should drop in at the Burrow and fill Weasley in," Blaise said to Potter, who was holding his cloak over his shoulder, "no doubt he'll want to help."

Potter nodded, "Sure thing. Let's go."

Blaise turned to Loccy, "Could you please take us to the Burrow?"

Loccy nodded and held out his hands for them to hold. Blaise took one, and Potter took the other. Blaise turned his head toward Nott, who was still standing crossly. Blaise gave him a look as if to say 'it's your choice.'

Nott grit his teeth, looking utterly displeased, but grudgingly walked toward Loccy and placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder. He looked disgusted about having to touch a house elf, but Blaise was sure he preferred that than having to hold onto one of them.

The world spun quickly around them, and before they knew it they had landed in the long golden grass around the Burrow. The lights were still on inside, and it lit everything up with a dull orange glow. Blaise heard laughter coming from somewhere inside, and as they began to walk closer, he could see the Weasley clan seated around the fireplace, drinking tea.

Blaise could sense Nott's trepidation at being here. He was dawdling behind them, looking as though he would rather be buried alive then be anywhere near Ginny right now. At least that's what Blaise assumed.

The Burrow wasn't a fancy place, it was rather odd looking, kind of like a patchwork quilt. Bit's were added here and there to accommodate for the growing family, but they were never wealthy.

Blaise was rather surprised that Draco had welcomed Weasley into their group so easily. Their fathers had a long history of dislike for one another, and Blaise knew it never benefited Draco for him to have developed the friendship.

Blaise knew the reason was mostly because of Potter. When Harry had first come to Hogwarts, everyone was buzzing with excitement at meeting the boy who lived. The first person happened to be Ron. They had struck up a friendship, and when Malfoy introduced himself, Potter had been hesitant.

But when both Potter and Weasley were sorted into Slytherin, Draco knew that to accept one, he had to accept the other. At first it was a friendship of convenience. Draco liked the attention that came with knowing Potter, but after a while, they all seemed to become friends on a more genuine level. Even Draco and Weasley, despite the fact that they argued so stubbornly with one another, could be found plotting a prank together, or drooling over the latest model of Nimbus to be released.

They all knew that Weasley was the outcast of his family. The only Slytherin. They also knew he was not wealthy like them. However, it had never seemed to matter. Potter was accepted into their family like a son. Mrs Weasley knitted him Christmas sweaters, Mr Weasley loved to hear about the muggle items he had at his Aunt and Uncles, and even Weasleys siblings treated him like family.

Though he never said it, Blaise knew that meant more to Harry than any amount of wealth left to him by his parents, so any time Potter had bought new quidditch gear or a new broom, he would buy Weasley one as well. It was a running joke between them that Weasley would pay him back when he became a famous Quidditch player some day.

"You should probably do the talking," Blaise said to Potter, knowing he was closer with the family, and more likely to successfully convince them to let Weasley out on this rescue mission.

Potter nodded, before stepping up to the door and tapping on it lightly.

"Who could that be at this time?" They heard Mrs Weasleys muffled voice say from inside the small cottage.

"I'll get it!" A feminine voice called out.

The door opened a few seconds later and Ginny Weasley stood in front of them, her expression confused, but it quickly turned to panic when she saw the dry blood on Potters face.

"Harry, what happened?" She said, racing forward and inspecting his head. "Mum! It's Harry! Come in," she ushered. It was then that she noticed Nott's presence and looked away swiftly.

The boys wandered inside the small living room. "I'm fine Ginny," Harry assured her. It was funny how different he was around the Weasleys. No sign of the arrogant git he was at school.

"Oh my! What happened?" Mrs Weasley raced forward, noticing the blood.

"Harry," Ron said, standing from his place next to who they assumed was his muggle. He was looking between the three of them with a mixture of concern and caution, "What happened?"

"It's a long story," Potter replied, just as Mrs Weasley raced back with a damp cloth and began cleaning up the blood.

"It looks as though the wound has been healed," she said, sounding relieved.

"We're very sorry to barge in like this," Blaise apologised. The whole family was clearly enjoying some tea and scones for supper.

"I'm sure it's important if you felt the need to do so," Mr Weasley replied in an amicable tone, though he looked wary.

"Speak for yourself, dad," One of the twins began, his tone was of a stirring nature.

"Having one Slytherin in the house is hard enough as it is half the time," The other finished. They sent a mischievous wink toward Harry.

"It is important," Blaise continued."It's kind of a matter of life and death."

They hurriedly explained the issue at hand, and watched as their expressions darkened with worry.

"So you're definitely sure it was Lucius that took them?" Ron asked, he was leaning forward, listening intently.

Blaise nodded, "Yes. Quite certain."

"Well then," Ron said with a tone of finality, standing from his seat, "why're we sitting round? Lets go."

"Now, just wait a minute," Mrs Weasley shot up, her expression strained. "This is too dangerous. We should call the ministry and they could send some Aurors out. I don't want you boys risking your lives."

Blaise glanced at Potter, then Weasley. Lucius played a large role in the Ministry, and Blaise was sure most of his ex-Death Eater pals were high-up employees, and most likely had connections in the Auror office. It wouldn't be worth the risk. But he also knew that Mrs Weasley would not let them leave without at least trying.

"Sure," Blaise agreed.

"I'll take the floo there now," Mr Weasley said, standing and grabbing his cloak. "They're open all night in case of emergencies. I suppose this would be considered an emergency."

He grabbed some floo powder and threw it into the fire. When the flames went green he stepped in and within a second he had disappeared.

"I hope they're ok," Ginny said weakly. She looked pale with worry. "Poor Hermione."

"She'll be ok, Dear," Mrs Weasley said, hugging her daughter closely.

"Yeah," one of the twins added. "I remember Hermione Granger from school. She was a tough witch. Scolded us for our pranks all the time because we were scaring the first years. Has us shaking in our boots sometimes."

Both twins shared a look at the memory. Despite their words, they both looked worried. Blaise appreciated how well they managed to brighten the situation. He remembered them from school. They were always causing trouble, which served them well because now they owned one of the most successful joke shops in the Wizarding world.

"Can we talk?" Weasley said quietly, eyeing his family who were chatting nervously around the fire. "In private."

Blaise nodded. They headed toward the front door, where Nott was standing awkwardly, his eyes on Ginny. Upon seeing them moving toward the exit, he stepped out himself. He was the first to speak as they got outside.

"I cant do this if there are Aurors involved." He said, sounding stressed. "If my father finds out, he'll kill me himself."

Weasley looked confused. "More importantly, what are you even doing here?"

"It's a long story," Blaise said, not feeling there was time for an explanation. "I don't trust the Aurors. You remember how many times Draco said his father had connections in the Auror office. We always laughed because of the irony. A dark wizard being friends with dark wizard catchers."

Potter nodded. "That was my first thought."

Weasley looked thoughtful, "Well, we have about one minute to get out of here before my father gets back."

They eyed each other, before nodding.

"Have you got your wand?" Blaise asked Weasley.

"Always," The red-head replied, tapping his back pocket.

"Alright, let's go-,"

"Ron?" A small voice came from beside them. It was the muggle girl.

Ron eyed his friends before heading over to her. He gripped her by the shoulder, his face close to hers.

"Emily, you need to go back inside."

She looked past him, toward his friends. Her eyes stopped and Blaise and she furrowed her brow, as though she were confused.

"You should wait for your father," She replied. "He said he was getting help."

Ron held her small face in his hands. "I'll explain to you later why I cant, but for now you have to trust me."

She looked apprehensive, but after a while she nodded. "Ok."

"If mum asks, just tell her we disappeared," Ron told her.

"You mean disapparated?" She asked, her eyes wide and innocent.

Ron let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah."

He kissed her one, and moved back over to the group. Loccy was waiting to take them, and they all placed a hand on his shoulder.

Ron was still smiling as he placed his hand on Loccy's arm. "Sometimes it amazes me how much she learns about our world."

"I guess she thinks it's her world as well." Blaise replied, before the sickening tug hit them all at once, and the Burrow disappeared.

* * *

><p>They landed in a damp, dark room. Blaise assumed it was a dungeon, or basement, considering the lack of light or fresh air. It smelt of mould.<p>

They saw a crack of light coming in from around a door, and peeked through. It was only when they saw several house elves, dressed in ragged cloth, did they realise they were in the kitchens of Malfoy Manor.

"Will they tell their Master's we're here?" Blaise asked Loccy, wondering if it was safe to venture out.

Loccy shook his head. "House elves must obey their Masters, but unless their Masters tell them something specifically, then they cant betray another wizard."

"That's convenient," Potter commented.

"How did you even know about this place?" Blaise asked.

Loccy smiled. "Loccy talks with Dobby when he sees Dobby at Diagon Alley. Sometimes, Loccy is invited here for supper with the other elves." His voice turned to a whisper, as though he were about to say something bad. "They don't like their Master."

"I don't really blame them," Weasley snorted.

"Loccy," Blaise began, "Could you wait down here? We'll try and get back down here when we're done. If we don't, we'll call out."

Loccy nodded, and pushed through the door. He was greeted by several house elves who didn't even notice the presence of Blaise and the others.

They moved toward the exit, and waited until the area outside was definitely clear.

"Only two of us will fit under the cloak," Blaise told them, "but this place is big, and if we want to have a decent chance of finding them, it will be better if we split up."

"I disagree," Nott said, his voice calm. " We should stick together. Two under the cloak, two visible. That way if someone does come along, there will be back up and we wont have to rescue more people. I say we work our way up."

Blaise bit his lip, wondering whether Nott had a point.

"He has a point," Weasley said, much to Blaises annoyance, "as much as I hate to admit it. We shouldn't split up, and the two under the cloak should be the ones to scope an area before we head in. It makes sense."

Blaise nodded. "You're right. The two strongest duellists should be under the cloak."

"Well that's definitely not me," Weasley said, stepping back.

"Ok, so we know the first will be Harry," Blaise decided, before then turning to Nott. "You're a strong duellist and your father will kill you if he finds out you're here, so you can be the second person. But, if you so much as think about hexing one of us in the back, I will shove your wand so far up your arse, you will start burping hexes. Clear?"

Nott raised his brows. "Crystal."

"Good." Blaise said. He handed the cloak to Potter and Nott. "Now let's go."

They headed toward the stairs, and began climbing toward what they hoped would be their friends.

* * *

><p>Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and as the blurriness disappeared, she was hit with a throbbing pain in her head. She remembered landing outside a large home, and struggling against the person who was holding her. She had bitten them on the arm, only to be hit across the head quite hard, before everything had gone fuzzy.<p>

She inspected her surroundings. She was seated on a large chair in an even larger room. It was decorated in a way that suggested who ever had taken her was wealthy. There was extravagant decorations on the walls, and gold trimming in places one normally wouldn't have gold trimming.

But the one key indicator of who had taken her, was the giant portrait of a calculating, ruthless, blonde family staring back at her from the picture frame above the extravagant fire place. She scowled. What idiots. Didn't they realise that as soon as she got out of here she would go straight to the Ministry? They could at least try to hide their identity.

It was also when she adjusted herself on the chair, that she realised she wasn't even being restrained. She stood quite easily, though not as easily as she could've without an aching head. She headed toward the door, grabbing the handle. Immediately she yelped and recoiled, in pain, groping her hand to her chest. The door knob was as hot as a raging fire. She looked at her hand, it was red and starting to blister. Maybe they weren't so stupid.

She heard the door open, and shuffled back, still on the ground. Her heart stopped as she saw a tall, muscular man in a Death Eater robe enter the room.

He removed his black gloves, chuckling at was she assumed was the fearful expression on her face.

"I assume you tried to get out?" he said, in a thick cockney accent. "I knew that would be a right laugh."

He stepped toward her, and she shuffled away more, giving herself carpet burnt knees as she did. "Who are you? Why am I here?"

He continued coming at her. "Who I am is none of your business. And you're here for me to have some fun with."

By this point he was towering over her, and she was shaking in fear. "Please..." She said weakly, hoping that he may have some semblance of a heart. She was wrong.

In what seemed like a second, he had lunged at her and pinned her down under him. Her face was squashed into the carpet, and his crotch was resting on her bum.

"Help!" She cried, finding her voice unsteady and overcome with tears and panic. "Help me!"

"No one's going to help you," he said harshly, his voice now filled with arousal. She shuddered in disgust. She kicked and screamed, and cried out. But no one was helping her. She was sure the whole house could hear her by this point, and wondered if anyone even wanted to help.

His hand came around to grope her breast, and she choked out a silent cry.

"I hear mudbloods are good fucks, what d'ya say I find out." He whispered in her ear, his feral breath reaching her nose.

"No!" She screamed as loud as she could. "Help!"

"Keep it down, Mudblood," he warned, and she could hear the sound of his belt buckle being undone.

"Help!" She screamed.

"I warned you," he said harshly grabbing the back of her head and slamming it down onto the carpet. She felt the warm blood seeping from her nose, and assumed it was broken. Her tooth had cut her lip, and there was warm blood seeping into her mouth. She felt like giving up.

But at the feeling of her pants being pulled down around her waist, she let out another gut-wrenching scream that filled the air around her so well, she felt a little less alone.

She felt him pull her pants off roughly, along with her shirt and bra. She was completely naked in front of this stranger, but it was the least of her problems. Her cries for help became louder, and so strong that she barely noticed him move from his spot on top of her.

She continued screaming so loudly that she didn't even hear the curse leave his lips until it hit her with a rush of pain so powerful, she couldn't move, speak, or breath. Her body convulsed and shook, under the curse. It felt like her blood was burning, like her internal organs were being squeezed, like she were being cut all over with a hot blade. The pain was indescribable, and it felt endless.

The world around her was slowly dimming, but she fought the the darkness with all her might. She could hear his chuckles around her like they were slightly muffled, and the sound of her heart beating. It was getting slower.

That was when the visions began.

She was three. Her father was holding her in his arms, pointing at the butterflies in a large field of flowers. "Isn't it pretty, Hermione?"

She was seven. She was chasing the neighbours cat trying to hold it. She fell and scraped her knee. Her mother raced over and kissed it better.

She was nine. She was glaring at a man at a magic show because he was being mean to a mouse. He put it under a cup, and when he lifted it, it was gone. He looked confused. Hermione felt the little mouse moving in her pocket. She reached her hand in and stroked it's fur.

"Hermione."

She was eleven. Professor McGonagall was seated on her lounge, wearing a pointy hat telling her she was a witch.

"Hermione."

She was fourteen. Draco Malfoy had just called her a mudblood and she was once again crying in the toilet stall.

"Hermione!"

Then there was nothing.

* * *

><p>Blaise was frantically racing about. He had heard screaming coming through the house, but it had stopped.<p>

"That was definitely Hermione," He said quickly, trying to race toward the source.

"What are they doing to her?" Weasley asked, his face filled with panic.

"I'm more worried about why it stopped," Blaise replied, straining his ears.

They paused suddenly when someone else started yelling Hermione's name in a room close by.

"Draco." The all said at once, and they raced toward the sound.

When they came to the room the yelling was coming from, they stopped.

"We should make a plan," Blaise began, not wanting to race in there unprepared.

"Ok," Potter agreed, from his place under the cloak, "How about you guys hide, and we wait for someone to come out, then we'll slip in, hex who-,"

"I wouldn't bother," A smooth, posh voice came from beside them. It was Narcissa Malfoy. She was covered in red. Blaise realised after a moment that it was blood.

They all raised there wands at once, but she didn't stop moving toward them. Her movements were graceful, and yet somehow defeated, as though she were a beautiful flower who had been crushed under a heavy boot for too long.

"Don't try to stop us," Blaise warned her. He had known her most of his life, and while she had never been the bad guy, she had never stopped the bad guy. Lucius.

"I'm not, but I'm just letting you know that Lucius may have a short temper, but he cares for his son." She said it so earnestly, it was almost as though she were trying to convince herself. "He would never hurt him."

Blaise scoffed. "I don't believe that for one second and I know you don't either. Besides, it's not so much Draco that I'm worried for. It's Hermione. Now, if you try and stop us I'll have to hex you in your own home."

Narcissa stared at the boys for a moment. Her expression shifted to one Blaise had never seen before. It worried him.

"What is it?" he asked, looking nervous.

"The girl, Hermione," She began quietly, looking Blaise in the eye, "It's too late for her."

"What do you mean?" He shot back angrily, his stomach filling with bile and dread.

"One of my husbands...employees," She hesitated on the word, "he used the Cruciatis curse to silence her screams. The curse as you may know, can be fatal if used in intervals longer than thirty seconds."

"What are you saying?" Blaise asked, though deep down he though he already knew.

"He held her under the curse for five minutes, or around that I believe, he didn't say." She replied, grasping her hands in front of her. "When I came to investigate, curious as to why her screams had ceased, I found her. I will skip some of the disturbing details. But she was unconscious. I fed her several potions, but none worked. I believe the curse ruptured her vital organs. I couldn't revive her."

"So-,"

"The girl is dead."

The words cut through Blaise like a knife. He felt his knees become weak, and eventually he surrendered the the heavy feeling in his stomach, and fell to the ground. Potter and Nott lowered the cloak, their expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. Weasley knelt down beside Blaise and gripped his shoulder. He was staring at the floor blankly.

Hermione couldn't be gone. She just _couldn't_. She had been a major part of all their lives for so long. She had been Draco's weakness, his reason for changing. She couldn't just exist one moment and be gone the next. Something had to feel different, but nothing did. The world hadn't changed. Just theirs.

Blaise could feel the anger rising inside of him, along with the bile. He let out a crazed cry, before standing abruptly and sending a hex at Narcissa. She fell to the ground unconscious.

They burst into the room beside them. Draco was seated on a chair, his hands magically bound. Blaise sent a stunning hex to the wizard behind him, knocking him toward the wall with a large crash.

Suddenly, hexes were flying everywhere. Two wizard fell from Potter and Theo wands, another from Weasley's. Lucius was in the corner, sneer on his face, blocking their curses with protective spells.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Blaise bellowed at him. His anger was so strong he had lost himself to it.

They'd had the benefit of a surprise attack, and taken out all of Lucius' cronies. It was four on one. And they were winning.

One of Nott's stunning spells got through Lucius' protective enchantment and sent the wizard crashing to the ground. Blaise raced over, a psychotic expression on his face.

He pointed his wand at Lucius head, his hand shaking unsteadily. "Avada-,"

"What are you doing?!" Potter grabbed his arm, knocking him to the floor, and holding him down as Blaise struggled to get free.

"Let me kill him! He deserves to fucking die!"

Weasley removed the spell holding Draco down, and the blond stood, staring wide-eyed at his friend.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Where's Hermione?"

"We need to go," Nott said abruptly, he was standing at the door. "There are more coming."

"Loccy!"Potter and Weasley cried at the same time. "Loccy!"

The house elf appeared with a crack, and immediately began panicking at the sight of so many unconscious wizards.

They ignored him for the moment, and merely gripped onto him. Blaise was still struggling against Potter.

"Leave him!" The other boy snapped. "He'll get what's coming to him!"

There was a loud cry from close by, and as they heard heavy footsteps racing toward the room, they disappeared with a crack.

They landed hard in Blaises living room, and immediately they collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily.

Draco was the only one still standing, he was staring at them, bewildered.

"Why the fuck are we just sitting here?" He asked, his voice filling with agitation. "Hermione's still there. We have to go back for her!"

"We're not going back," Blaise said weakly. The reality of what had happened suddenly hit him. Hermione was dead. Her soul, her mind, her personality, gone from existence. Not only that, but he had been one word away from becoming a murderer. He ran his hand through his hair.

"We should seal up the house, so no one can get in." Potter suggested. It was vital given the situation.

"I need to go," Nott said, his face held an expression they'd never seen him wear before. A mixture of fear, sadness, and worry. "I need to go home."

"Take him," Blaise said to Loccy, with a sway of his hand. They disappeared with a crack.

"What the fuck is this?!" Draco bellowed. "Let's go! We need to get her!"

He moved toward Blaise and shoved him. "Why are you just fucking sitting there?!"

He pushed again. "Zabini!"

He shoved him harder, pushing him over. Blaise slowly stood. "Sit down." He told the blond. He didn't want to be the one that told him, but he knew it would only be accepted coming from him.

"No," Draco hissed. "Don't tell me to fucking sit down when she's still out there."

"That's what this is about," Blaise told him.

Draco shoved him again. "I don't want to fucking talk! I want to get her!"

Blaise grabbed his shoulders and pushed him toward the couch, Draco fought back roughly.

"Draco-,"

"I told you I don't want to fucking talk-,"

"Draco!" Blaise yelled, grabbing his hair and forcing him to look at his face.

"Let go of me," He cried, "I'll go get her myself."

"You cant-,"

"You call yourselves my fucking mates-,"

"She's dead, Draco."

"But you won't-,"

The blond went silent and he stared at Blaise, with a blank expression.

"What did you just say?" he said, his voice was too calm.

"Hermione's dead," he repeated, choking slightly on the words. It was hard to say her name now, and even harder to say those two words in the same sentence.

Draco stared at Blaise, then turned to to look at Potter on Weasley. They were both staring at their feet, the display too much for them to handle.

Draco turned back to Blaise, and stared at him for another moment, before pushing him away.

"I don't believe you," He said plainly. "She's not dead. Where's the proof? Did you see her?"

"Well, no, but-,"

"So you don't know?" Draco said loudly. "You're just assuming."

"You're mother told us," Blaise said, his voice strained. He was worried for his friend.

"My mother?" he spat. "You believed that lying bitch? She's been a manipulative cow since the day I was born! And you'd believe her?"

Blaise was starting to question his own judgement. But why would she lie about that?

"I..well...if you'd heard what she told us, you would have believed her."

"Mate," Weasley said quietly, calmly approaching Draco. "We all heard her. It sounded genuine. The...detail..." he looked pale at the thought.

Draco shook his head, looking between them. "No. No." he kept repeating the words until Blaise was sure he had finally had a breakdown.

"Draco," Blaise reasoned, moving toward him and grabbing his shoulders. "It'll be ok."

He wasn't sure if it would, but he needed someone to say it.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" Draco bellowed, louder than Blaise had ever heard him before.

He shoved Blaise away, and looked between them once more, his expression livid, before racing out of the room. They heard several doors slam, before there was silence.

Blaise went to follow, but Potter spoke.

"Just leave him. There's nothing any of us can say to make him feel better right now."

Blaise nodded, somehow feeling responsible for everything. " I'll check on him soon."

They sat for several hours in silence, occasionally drinking coffee. None of them spoke. They were still in shock.

Hermione was gone.

* * *

><p>When the clock struck 3am, Blaise sat up. Potter and Weasley had dozed off, and were snoring from the other side of the room.<p>

Blaise stood, and rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted, but he knew sleep wouldn't come for him for a while.

He left the room and began his search for Draco. He walked through on half of the house, searching empty rooms, calling out. But no success. He moved down to the kitchen, thinking Draco might've gotten hungry, though he doubted it. It was empty.

His bedroom and all the spare bedrooms were empty. The bathrooms were empty. Blaise even checked the linen closets, and did a lap on his broom to see if he were somewhere surrounding the house.

He was starting to worry. He went back down to the living room, and found Potter and Weasley awake and sitting silently on the couch.

"How's Draco?" Potter asked, as Blaise slumped back on the couch.

"I can't find him," Blaise told them. Where could he be?

"He might just be out having a ride," Weasley suggested. "It always makes me feel better."

Blaise shook his head. " I already checked outside."

Potter and Weasley shared a look. "You don't think he would have gone back there, do you?"

Blaise thought for a moment. Would Draco go back there to confirm whether Hermione was alive or dead? Probably.

"Even if he did," Potter continued, "Lucius won. He has no reason to hurt Draco any more..."

They were silent, knowing what he was implying. With Hermione gone, Draco couldn't destroy the Malfoy name.

"It's not Draco I'd be worried about," Blaise said after a moment, remembering how close he'd come to ending Lucius' sad existence.

Potter broke the silence. "Look, no matter how upset he is. He'll come round. He'll be back before we know it. We're his friends. He wont be able to handle this alone."

Blaise nodded. Maybe they were right.

Little did they know, something had changed. Draco wasn't coming back.

* * *

><p>Narcissa Malfoy sat at her vanity, in her bedroom. It had been a long time since she had shared a bed with her husband. As the darkness grew in him, they grew further apart. She didn't mind, however. She liked her privacy. She had always been a private person, something that being Lucius Malfoys wife had never allowed.<p>

She dabbed a potion on her bruised cheek. Blaise Zabini had hexed her good, and the fall wasn't exactly comfortable. But it was worth it in the end. Lying had come natural to her. Yes, dear. No, dear. All lies. It was all she ever spoke to her husband. She respected her husband, but despised him at the same time.

She had been at home, sitting in her reading room, when her husband had burst into the house earlier that night in guffaws. His companions were also laughing. It was the first time in days she'd heard him laugh. He had been so angry about Draco's disappearance.

But she knew his laughter meant worse. She had seen them carrying the two in. Her heart stopped as she saw the young girl, and she almost hexed them when she saw Draco being carried though the door. What were they thinking hexing her son?

"Take her upstairs," Lucius had ordered. "We'll deal with her later. I must talk with my son first." Narcissa knew there would be little talking involved.

She hid as they took the two unconscious souls past her, and she wondered what she should do.

If she did anything, it would not be worth her life. So she went back to her room, hoping someone was watching over Draco.

That's when she heard it. The screaming. She tried to ignore it at first, but it was impossible. She couldn't take it any more. She left her room, following the sounds.

It was only a few doors away. But she could hear no more screaming. She pondered on whether to turn around and go sit quietly back in her room, or investigate, but when she heard a low chuckling from within the room, she couldn't merely turn and leave.

She opened the door, and her hand flew to her heart at the sight before her.

One of her husbands _monsters_, was performing the Cruciatis curse on the small, naked body of this young girl.

Her face was covered in blood, and she was pale.

"Stop that at once!" She bellowed. The man turned in shock breaking the curse.

"Madam Malfoy," he mumbled, looking to the ground. "I apologise if the noise disturbed you."

"Did my husband tell you to do this? To a child?" She asked, her voice dangerous. "You've surely killed her!"

The fool swallowed thickly. "I apologise, but I must go."

He practically ran out the door, leaving her to stare after him. She memorised his voice, knowing it would identify him later.

After a moment, she remembered the girl on the floor and moved toward her.

She was certain that this girl, Hermione Granger, was dead.

"Hermione." She said, in a soft, gentle voice.

There was no reply. Not even a sign of conciousness.

"Hermione."

She opened one of her eyes to inspect the pupil. They weren't yet dilated.

"Hermione." she said, once more.

She placed a hand on the girls cheek, when there was a sudden choking sound. Warm blood dripped on Narcissa's gown.

The girl was coughing up blood, but at least she was alive. She levitated her, and moved her to her room. She kept a supply of healing potions in there, most better than you'd find at St Mungo's.

She lay the girl on the bed, and raced to the cabinet. She grabbed several vials and raced back to her side. She poured them one by one into her mouth, and watched as her wounds healed and she became lucid.

As soon as she was fully concious, she burst into tears.

Narcissa hushed her, "Now, now, there's no time for that. You're alive and only just. And if my husband finds out he'll be sure to change that."

Hermione sniffled, as she stared at Narcissa. Most of her thoughts were probably confusion about why she was here, and why Narcissa was helping her.

"You're not safe here, not at the moment." Narcissa began, her voice soft, but strong. "You must leave this place, and all you know, because my husband will surely find you and kill you for what you've done to our family."

She moved towards her closet, grabbing out some clothes.

Hermione let out a stifled sob.

"If you think tonight was bad, it will be ten times worse next time," She said, not bothering to sugar coat the truth. It was never her style. She grabbed out an old pair of boots."My son loves you. I can admit that, despite your dirty blood, something in you appeals to him."

Hermione was sobbing more and more.

"My husband, on the other hand, will not accept that. Which is why you have to run. It wont be forever, child, stop your crying. We must all make sacrifices."

She brought the clothes to Hermione, and began dressing her. She was still so weak.

"My...family," She choked out.

"They will most likely be killed along with you, if you are found. But you will be safe if you listen to me and don't be foolish."

Once she was dressed, Narcissa grabbed two old shoes from her wardrobe.

She pointed her wand at a blue heel, "What is your home address?"

Hermione choked out a sob.

"We don't have time, child." She berated.

Hermione choked out her address.

Narcissa pointed her wand at the shoe, and mumbled a spell. It lit up for just a second.

"I'm making two port keys," She explained at Hermione's worried glance. "One will take you home in two minutes. The other will take you to a place you will be safe in exactly one hour."

"How can I trust you?" Hermione asked, through her tears.

"You don't really have a choice," Narcissa said simply. "Now hold these."

She gave her the two shoes, and stood.

"Do not be foolish, Hermione," She said, as Hermione and the port keys disappeared.

That was one problem solved, now to save her son.

She walked out of the room, ready to spout one of the biggest lies of her life. The young girl had died.

Luckily for her, lying had always come naturally.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Just a short chapter...which took me in a completely different direction, and may add a few more chapters to this story. Sorry if you were hoping for some closure. Hope you enjoy. Sorry for the angst.  
><strong>

**Leni**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29  
><strong>

_...in which clues are found._

* * *

><p><em>Blaise pointed his wand at Lucius Malfoy's blank, expressionless face as he lay stunned on the floor. His hand was shaking with anger, and the words were coming out of his mouth before he could process what they meant.<em>

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_There was a flash of green light that blinded him, as his wand vibrated with power and force. The spell ebbed away just as quick as it had come._

_He wanted to look down on his victory. The lifeless eyes of Lucius Malfoy, knowing he had not only ended a monsters life for the better, but had saved the lives of countless others._

_However, his victory was non-existent. Instead of seeing the cold expression Lucius Malfoy always wore, and most probably would wear in death, he was met with the wide, fearful, brown eyes of Hermione, staring back at him. There was no life in them anymore, just a lone tear running down her cheek toward her ear..._

Blaise woke with a start. He was breathing heavily and his heart was thumping in his chest. He let out a long breath, and felt a drop of cold sweat fall from his forehead. It had only been two weeks, but the nightmares were becoming intolerable.

He looked at the clock on the wall. It was 7am. He knew there would be no chance of him getting back to sleep, so he shoved the blankets off himself, and headed toward the bathroom. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror out of the corner of his eye, and couldn't help but notice the dark rings that sat beneath them.

He was losing it.

He turned the shower to a hot stream and stepped under. He stood idle for a moment, letting his thoughts wonder.

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since the worst, and most haunting night of his life. Hermione was dead, or so they were all led to believe, and Draco was missing.

Blaise kept going over the facts.

The Aurors had turned up at Malfoy Manor just moments after they had left. All they had found was a group of unconscious wizards. There was no sign of Hermione's body anywhere. He had hexed Narcissa, so she couldn't have removed her body in time, and the Aurors showed up too soon for anyone to dispose of it afterwards. He supposed there were a lot of spells that could do that rather quick...

He fought back the bile.

The facts he knew were that Hermione Granger was not missing. No reports in the Daily Prophet had been printed. No questions from any Aurors. Nothing. Why hadn't her parents reported her missing? Unless something had happened to them...

He splashed warm water on his face. He didn't want to think about that possibility.

All he knew was that he had been told Hermione Granger was dead, but there was no body. And no reports of it. Was there even any evidence in the house...

Blaise froze.

Narcissa's dress had been covered in blood. Blood that was most likely Hermione's. Why hadn't the Aurors found that?

Then he remembered. Most of the Aurors were likely chummy with Lucius. Any evidence they would have found to put anyone in Azkaban would have been destroyed. He grit his teeth in anger. He wasn't going to let them get away with that.

Blaise was certain that Draco had gone back to the Manor that night. Apart from his constant guilty thoughts on how he should have stopped him, should have gone after him, should have just killed Lucius, he was certain that when Draco returned, he was either killed or locked up.

Blaise closed his eyes. He had to stop thinking of this. It was torturing him.

He stepped out of the shower, dressed in fresh clothes, and made his way downstairs. He had spent most of his time recently either riding his broom, or avoiding his friends.

He laced up his boots and grabbed his broom. He stepped out onto the rolling lawn, and squinted as the sun blinded him through a white cloud. The days recently had been so beautiful, and it bugged him to no end because it didn't match the darkness that was slowly growing inside of him.

He mounted his broom, and kicked off the ground. He did several laps around the mansion, before riding too fast through the pine trees at the edge of his land. He went so high he could see above the clouds, and so low the tip of his boot broke the still water of the pond below him. He did loops, he soared, he raced birds, and sometimes he just sat, staring down at the ground below him. It all helped him clear his mind. Not very much, but a little.

He lowered his broom down to the ground, and dismounted next to a small tree. He sat down in the shade and leaned against it. Immediately, his mind began torturing him again.

It was only when he heard the sound of footsteps, that he looked up.

It was Potter and Weasley.

"Hey," Potter greeted lazily, slumping against the tree next him.

"You don't look so good, mate," Weasley commented, his voice serious.

Blaise looked over at him, squinting. Even in the sunlight, he could see that both Weasley and Potter looked as rested as he did.

"Speak for yourself." Blaise retorted, before turning away. He began ripping up a piece of grass in his fingers.

They were silent for a moment.

"I've been thinking," Potter began. Normally, Blaise would retort with a smart-arse comment that would have them all chuckling, but he didn't. It felt wrong to smile.

"I cant just sit here and do nothing," Potter continued., his voice strained with emotion. "Neither of us can. Blaise, we've been living in the same house for the past two weeks and I've barely seen you. We can't just sit here while nothing happens. We need the truth. And no one is looking for it."

Blaise didn't speak, he just continued ripping the grass. Potter looked slightly disheartened at the lack of response.

"I think we should at least see if someone knows something." He said, looking pleadingly at Blaise, who still hadn't met his eye.

Potter sighed, looking to Weasley for back up. The red head leaned forward.

"Look, mate," he said in a low voice, despite the fact no one was around to eaves drop. "Don't you find it odd that we haven't even been arrested for breaking and entering into a wizards home, and more importantly for hexing them?"

Potter nodded. "I know for a fact, that Narcissa and Lucius could have identified us in a second. But they didn't. Which means they're hiding something and don't want to cause a big scene. We've got no proof that they even took Hermione and Draco, but what if Draco is there, being held hostage?"

Blaise sighed, throwing down the now-mutilated piece of grass. "I've already considered that."

"So it's possible!" Potter cried, his eyes wide.

Blaise gave a shrug, staring at the ground. "It is, but are you willing to put yourself in the position for the disappointment that they're both dead? Because I'm not sure I can."

His nerves couldn't take much more.

Potter fell silent.

After a moment, Weasley spoke. "I'm willing to do that," he said strongly, "I'm willing to live with the disappointment, because otherwise we have to live with never knowing. I would rather a life of disappointment, over regret."

Potter nodded. "He's right, mate. You're in a bad place right now, but you will regret not finding out the truth while you had a chance. While there's still hope."

Blaise looked away. He knew he was being selfish, gutless even. But it hurt, more than it was hurting them.

"Her parent's deserve the truth," Weasley added, his voice soft.

Blaise was silent for a moment. It was true. Her parents were just victims of this whole thing. They probably didn't even know the truth. Their minds probably wiped to believe some false story.

"We should go see them," Blaise said suddenly, standing abruptly.

Potter and Weasley stared at him, shocked at his sudden change of heart.

"Ok," They agreed, happy to at least be doing something other than sitting around thinking about death.

* * *

><p>Loccy apparated them to a small lane-way around the corner from Hermione's family home. Blaise recognised it immediately from their eventful visit last Christmas. He let out a small smile at the memory, but banished it immediately.<p>

They walked down the path of the quiet suburban street, feeling nervous at what they would find at Hermione's home.

"Should we bring flowers?" Weasley asked suddenly. The two other boys stared at him. "Well, she is...ya' know."

"I'm not even sure they know that." Blaise reminded him. Though he was starting to have doubts about whether she were actually gone, himself.

"Right," Weasley responded, looking awkward.

They continued walking, until they were standing in front of the door to the cosy home.

Blaise hesitated for a moment, before knocking. They heard movement inside, and after a moment a woman answered the door. The woman was a spitting image of Hermione, except her hair was far tamer, and her eyes were framed with fine lines. Blaise's words were caught in his mouth for a moment.

"Hello," The woman greeted, with a hesitant smile. Blaise returned it.

"Hello," he said politely. "Sorry to intrude, but we're here to see Hermione. We're friends of hers...from school."

He wasn't sure what she knew of their school, but when her eyes widened with realisation, Blaise knew that she knew enough.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dears," Mrs Granger replied, her expression one of disappointment, "Hermione must have forgot to tell you, but she's staying at a friends house for the Summer."

Blaise was surprised. Whoever had altered their memories, had only done it for the short term. If Hermione was dead, they would need a more long-term excuse.

"Oh, I see, and which friend is that?" He asked, casually.

The woman furrowed her brow, looking thoughtful. "Now her name is slipping my mind...Oh yes, I think it was Jenny..."

Blaise nodded. He didn't know a Jenny, but he knew the story was bogus anyway.

"Jenny Weasley, it was," the woman said suddenly, smiling.

They boys eyed each other.

"Do you mean 'Ginny'?" Weasley asked.

The woman's eyes brightened, and she chuckled.

"That's the one, silly me. I apologise. I'm sometimes bad with names." She looked sheepish, and Blaise smiled.

"We know Ginny," He told her. "We'll go visit Hermione there."

Mrs Granger nodded. "You kid's have fun. Oh, and tell her to reply to my letters. I'm not letting her off that easily."

She chuckled, but Blaise knew she looked upset. His stomach lurched.

"I'll make sure she writes," he said with a smile. He turned to leave, when she stopped him again.

"Just a second, I forgot to catch your names," she said with a smile. "Told you I was bad."

Blaise gave a weak smile. "I'm Blaise. This is Harry and Ron." He pointed to the other two in succession. They smiled.

She nodded, looking at Blaise oddly. "Blaise is a unique name," she commented, looking as though she were trying to remember something. "Forgive me for being so forward, but you aren't they boy that sent my Hermione that necklace for Christmas, are you?"

Blaise hesitated. "Uh, no."

She sighed. "Darn. I can't for the life of me remember his name. It was a unique name, like yours."

"It was Draco." Blaise supplied, before correcting himself. "It _is_ Draco. His name's Draco."

Potter and Weasley eyed him strangely.

"That's the one! I've been trying for months to remember, and Hermione refuses to talk to me about it." Mrs Granger chuckled, smiling brightly. "Are you his friends?"

Blaise nodded. "His best friends."

She smiled at him as though she thought it was the sweetest thing.

"Is he a nice boy? To my Hermione, I mean." Her expression turned to one of parental concern. "She's been through a lot. I just want her to find a nice boy."

Potter and Weasley glanced at Blaise, curious as to how he would answer that question. Draco had been the cause of some of her worst days, but he was also sure he was the cause of some of her best.

"He's one of the greatest people I know," Blaise answered, and her face lit up with happiness.

"I'm so glad," she said, looking contented. "You don't know how happy it makes a mother, hearing that."

Blaise was at least glad she was spared all of this pain, for now, anyway.

They left a few minutes later, not knowing what to make of their new found information.

Who ever obliviated Mrs Grangers memory had only planned for the short term. As soon as the holidays ended, Hermione's absence would become evident when she didn't show up for school. Also, whoever performed the memory charm, had for some reason led a trail right to the Burrow.

"Well she's definitely not there," Weasley told them. He had come from there just that morning.

"It's an odd memory to put in," Blaise responded, looking thoughtful.

"So are we still under the impression that it was one of the Malfoys who implanted that memory?" Potter asked.

Blaise shrugged. "Their solutions are more permanent. Whoever implanted this memory is only preparing for the short term. Like they believe she might come back..."

"And they mentioned Ginny," Weasley added. "I don't think the Malfoys would add a memory that could be so easily discovered as being false. Anyone could go to my house and see she isn't there. It doesn't make sense."

"Sounds to me like who ever did it was in a rush. Like they thought of the first excuse that came to mind. And they're probably a terrible liar." Potter suggested, as they continued walking down the path.

Blaise frowned. That didn't sound at all like a Malfoy.

"Maybe they want us to think that," He sighed, his head was filling with a mixed up puzzle. "To lead us away. Make us question ourselves."

Potter shrugged. "Either way, mate, we're beating around the bush. You and I both know where we need to go to get answers."

Blaise looked away from Potter. He did know. But he didn't want to go back there, either. Malfoy Manor had haunted him since that night.

"He's right," Weasley told him, sensing his trepidation.

Blaise nodded. They were both right.

* * *

><p>They found themselves standing outside the large doors of Malfoy Manor an hour later. Blaise had thought seriously about it, and he realised that all the evidence and truths they were after resided with the occupants of this home.<p>

They walked up the long path, and stopped at the door.

"I figured this time we could at least use the door," Blaise explained, "might save our asses from a couple of hexes."

Potter and Weasley agreed. They stood in silence for a moment more, each waiting for the other to act. Finally, someone did.

"Well, let's get this over with." Potter sighed. He knocked loudly on the doors before Blaise could stop him.

Blaise could feel the panic rising inside of him. He still wasn't sure what to do or say.

The doors opened some moments later, and a tall, muscular cloaked wizard scowled back at them.

"Whad'ya want?" He asked rudely, his accent thick, and hard to understand.

"We're here to see Mrs Malfoy." Potter replied, jutting his chin out.

"She's busy. Piss off." He grunted, the door began closing in their faces, when an aristocratic voice stopped him.

"Let them in." Narcissa ordered loudly from her spot in the other room.

The man hesitated, before grudgingly opening the door. He glared at them all as they entered and made their way to the adjacent sitting room.

Narcissa was seated on a white leather seat, a tray of tea in front of her. She was holding the cup, but not drinking from it.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked, her voice was reserved. Blaise knew that there was no such pleasure in this visit for her.

"We're here for answers," Blaise told her. She glanced at him under her lashes.

"What's the question?" She asked simply.

Blaise grit his teeth. Typical for a Malfoy to play games. "There's a few. If Hermione is dead, where's her body? Why is she not reported missing? And who removed her parents memories?"

She stared at Blaise for a moment.

"What makes you think I know the answer to any of those questions? I believe I was unconscious in the second story hallway when this apparent incident occurred."

"Apparent?" Blaise spat. "It's not apparent, you-,"

"Next question," She interrupted. Her tone sounded bored. Blaise clenched his fist in frustration.

"I want the answers to those questions!" He demanded loudly. She didn't flinch. She was probably used to being yelled at.

She looked him in the eye, her expression was blank, but her eyes held meaning. _Not now_.

Blaise glanced to the side and saw the rude wizard who had let them in, staring on with great interest. He understood suddenly. She was being watched.

He moved on to his next question.

"Where's Draco?"

She seemingly ignored him, and turned to the wizard at the door. "My tea is cold. Order the elves to make me more."

The wizard hesitated, before nodding. He left grudgingly.

When they heard the door to the kitchens close, Narcissa leaned forward and began talking in hushed tones.

"I cannot speak of Hermione. So do not ask me. But Draco is alive. He came on the night it all happened, demanding to see her body. He was upset. He fought with Lucius, and left abruptly. I don't know what they fought about, but I didn't see him before he left. I assume he is in hiding. Lucius is sparing no expense to find him."

Blaise could hear loud footsteps coming from the kitchen.

"Do you want him to be found?" he got the impression she may not.

"He's my son. I only want what's best for him."

He sighed at her cryptic answer. "Do you have any idea where he might have went? Any at all?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but the tall, dark wizard had re-entered the room carrying a fresh plate of tea. He sat it down, and eyed them both with a suspicious glance. Blaise stared back, however, Narcissa merely picked up a new cup.

"Tea?" She offered them. Her voice had returned to it's normal, expressionless tone and Blaise knew he wasn't going to get anything else from her.

"Thank you for your help," he said bitterly; it hadn't been much.

They left moment later, receiving threatening looks from the wizard once more.

When they were at a safe distance, Potter spoke.

"What was that guys problem?" He crowed.

"I think he's supposed to be watching her," Blaise told them. "Lucius must be suspicious. But why?"

"Well, we know Draco's alive, at least according to her," Weasley explained, "Maybe Lucius thinks she helped Draco get out, or is still helping him?"

"Maybe," Blaise pondered. He thought it might be more than that, though. But at least they got one important piece of information from their visit. Draco was alive, and he was nowhere to be found.

It was at least something to keep them going.

* * *

><p>A bushy haired witch sat alone on a large rock near the ocean. The sky was darkening, and she knew a storm would probably hit in a few minutes. She put her book away and pulled her jumper further around her body in an attempt to fight the cold.<p>

Hermione stood, and began walking back to the large cottage on the green land behind her.

It had been two weeks since she'd first arrived there, and two weeks since she had spoken to anyone.

Her parents thought she was staying at Ginny's; a stupid, hurried excuse she thought of while packing in her room. She had worried about it every day since leaving.

More importantly, she was wondering whether she had made the right choice to trust Narcissa Malfoy. In her pain and desperation, she had latched onto the kindness like it was a guiding light, and she wasn't even sure if she was safe here, or just moved here to make it easier for Lucius to finish her off.

She grit her teeth. She was sick of being a victim.

The warmth of the fire hit her cool skin some moments later as she stepped through the door of her safe-house. It was a large cottage, right on the edge of the beach, but it still didn't seem fancy enough for a wealthy pure-blood family. She assumed they didn't use it much for that reason.

She grabbed a can of soup from the cupboard, and poured it into a small pot, before turning the dial on the stove. She was glad that their were muggle appliances here. She had never cooked using magic much.

She had been getting weekly deliveries of food from a house elf, who she assumed belonged to Narcissa. The elf mostly brought soup, and canned goods. Bread, and some fruit. But it never spoke to her. It must've been under strict orders.

Hermione sat at the dining table as her soup cooked, and continued reading her books. She was glad she had thought to bring her school work. The isolation was tedious, but at least she had something to occupy her thoughts from straying back to that night.

She shivered, and felt the sick feeling that had plagued her on and off, return to her stomach. She couldn't think about it. It was too disturbing.

There was a large crack of lightening outside, and she found herself jumping at the noise. She let out an annoyed sigh. She hoped she would get over this jumpiness one day. Maybe one day it might be safe for her to go home.

She wandered over to the window, ignoring the bubbling of the soup as it heated. She stared up at the sky, watching as it cracked with sharp, bright colours that lit up the grey clouds and the damp sand. After a moment, the rain became heavier, and she somehow felt more comforted by the constant pattering noise on the roof.

She continued to stare out at the ocean, watching as the waves rolled in and then back out. It was a beautiful sight in terrible circumstances.

She had never gone to the beach much with her family. They had visited once for a holiday when she was younger, and she had been too scared to swim because of the large waves. She wondered if she would think that now, considering how close to death she had come just days before. Waves weren't really that bad compared to what else could hurt you.

The sky lit up again with a loud crash, and Hermione's heart thumped in her chest as it revealed a dark figure wandering along the beach. She instantly raised her wand and extinguished all the dim lights in the room, but knew it was too late as whoever it was had already seen, and was making their way over.

She could feel her panic rising. She couldn't make out who it was through the rain and darkness, but from their strides she could tell they were male.

She raced away from the window, and began packing her things roughly into her bag. She froze when she heard the front door creak open. She ducked under the table, and covered her mouth with her hand.

She saw two wet, sandy boots step through the door. She recognised the dragon-hide material, and knew whoever it was was a wizard, which didn't bring her any comfort at all. She could see the beginning of black pants from the leg up, but that was all. The wizard stood in the door for a moment, as if gauging his surroundings. After a moment, he shut the door. Hermione frowned as he slipped his boots off, revealing a mismatched pair of socks. She could see the drops of water hitting the floor. He had obviously walked a long way to get here and was saturated.

Hermione watched as a wet satchel was placed at the foot of a chair that was beside her. The wizard wandered around the room slowly, as though looking for something. He stopped near her, in front of the stove top. Hermione suddenly remembered her soup was still cooking, and cursed inwardly.

The wizard turned, and spoke for the first time. "Hermione?"

She froze. Not only because this wizard knew her name, but because for some reason his familiar voice brought her such comfort and fear at the same time.

She bit her lip, wondering whether she should just ignore him. However, before she knew what she was doing, she quietly peeked out from under the table.

She spotted him first. His hair was dripping wet, along with his dark cloak. She could see the stubble along his jaw, and the dark rings under his eyes. It puzzled her why he looked so wrecked.

She crawled out quietly, and stood tentatively.

He turned quickly at the sound. Immediately his face contorted into a sneer.

"Why didn't you show yourself sooner, Granger?" Nott said, looking annoyed.

Hermione crossed her arms and stared back. "Why are you here?"

He rolled his eyes, as though it were obvious.

"Well, it's certainly not to enjoy the fucking weather." He spat sarcastically, looking thoroughly uncomfortable from the wet.

Hermione raised her brow in disbelief. "You mean...you're here to find me?"

He nodded, shaking the water out of his hair. He was starting to shiver from the cold.

"Go sit down," She directed him, nodding toward the fire. She grabbed two bowls and put equal servings of soup in both, before bringing it to him.

He nodded in thanks, before swallowing a spoonful.

"So why, of all people, is it you here?" Hermione asked, confused and a little disappointed.

Nott took another spoon of soup before answering. "It's hardly my choice to be here."

Hermione felt annoyed. "Well, I know you're a stubborn git, so it would have taken a lot to get you here."

Nott shrugged nonchalantly. "Despite how much I hate him, Malfoy can be persuasive."

Hermione felt her stomach flip. She tried her best to ignore it. "Malfoy?"

Nott simply nodded. Hermione hated that he wouldn't willingly talk unless prompted.

"Why did he send you?" She asked, a little too desperately.

Nott eyed her with an unreadable expression. "He didn't send me specifically here. But he just made me an offer if I would assist him in finding you."

Hermione was puzzled. "Why wouldn't he just ask his friends?"

"Because they think you're dead," he stated simply. "He didn't say much about it, but they seem to be unwilling to help him."

Hermione ignored the pang of hurt she felt. She thought Blaise would be the one to lead the search party.

"And you were?" She asked after a moment.

He shrugged. "He's a git, but he has some contacts in the wizarding world that I would kill to meet after Hogwarts. He made me an offer, and I accepted. It's purely business."

Hermione supposed that for the right price Nott's assistance could be bought, even if he despised Malfoy.

"So why did you believe I was alive?" She asked. If Blaise didn't believe, why did he?

Nott was silent for a moment. "I didn't really," he admitted. "But I was willing to take advantage of Malfoy's weakness to get what I wanted. And besides, I don't give a shit about his sanity, unlike his side-kicks, so I wouldn't bother lecturing him to stop looking for you. I've just been going to the places he tells me to, and looking around. The only reason I even bothered to come inside was because I saw the lights. As soon as I smelt the hideous perfume you wear, I knew it was you."

Hermione felt a mixture of emotion at this. A strange feeling deep inside at the thought of Malfoy being the only one looking for her, but mostly disgust at Nott for being a selfish git.

"You really are an ass," She accused. "Taking advantage of someone's feelings like that."

He shrugged, looking unfazed. "Hey, I'm a Slytherin, don't act like you expected anything moral of me. Malfoy knows the deal. Besides, I found you, alive, so I upheld my side of the deal. I've just got to take you to him, then I'm done."

Hermione sputtered indignantly. Take her to him? "I'm not going anywhere with you! Especially not near Malfoy."

Nott eyed her as though she were a drama queen.

"I'm surprised the idea repulses you so much, considering you seemed to enjoy the idea of him searching near and far for you." He eyed her accusingly, as she tried to fight her embarrassment.

"I'm fine here," she said ignoring his accusations.

"That's lovely, but I don't particularly care," he said plainly, sitting his empty bowl down.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Hermione argued. "You can tell Malfoy I'm alive and well, but I'm not leaving. Narcissa said it was safest for me-,"

"You actually believe that old bitch?" Nott asked, his expression of disbelief and judgement.

"She saved me," Hermione argued, though for some reason, it felt like a weak argument.

"She told us you were dead," Nott shot back.

"It was to keep me safe," She told him, though she was now questioning whether that really was her motive.

"It was to keep you out of the picture, Granger," he told her, as though it were sad that she hadn't realised it earlier. "She may have pitied you, but at the end of the day you're a Mudblood and her sons obsession. She may not believe in murder like her husband, but she is just as cold."

Hermione ignored how much his words cut her.

"Why do you think that?" She snapped.

"Because she's a Malfoy," he said plainly.

"Draco's a Malfoy, and I was supposed to have loved him, or so everyone keeps telling me," She shot back.

"Well clearly you're not very smart," He said in a patronising tone.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. She knew she was smart, but she also knew that trusting a Malfoy was a risk.

"I'm not planning on hiding forever, just until it's safe," Hermione explained, though her realised one flaw in her argument, which Nott was quick to point out.

"When is it ever going to be safe?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but closed it again. She didn't know. She had been so caught up in her trauma, that she had not really thought about the future, just staying safe.

It would never be safe for her as long as Lucius Malfoy held a grudge.

Maybe staying here wasn't such a good idea. What if Narcissa ratted her out? It was far fetched, but a risk that would cost Hermione her life.

But she had nowhere else to go; no one who knew how bad things really were enough to help her stay safe. Well...

She looked up at Nott, and he already knew he had won.

"I'm doing this for me," She explained pointlessly. He merely nodded.

"Well, I apparrated here from the train station in the next town," Nott explained. "I preferred to use muggle means of transport most of the way. It's easier and doesn't draw as much attention."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Exactly how many places have you searched for me?"

Nott gave a slight shrug. "Only a couple. Me and Malfoy were looking through different areas. He was convinced his mother had hidden you some where that Lucius wouldn't look. Apparently he hated holidaying here, so I searched here next."

"Then why the heck are you convincing me to leave?" Hermione questioned, feeling annoyed.

"I already told you, you're right where Narcissa wants you. She could snap her fingers and have ten wizards at this door before we have time to say 'Hufflepuff'. It's like handling a dragon. It might never snap, but the day it does, you're fucking done for."

Hermione threw up her hands, "Fine! Lets just go."

"We should wait until the storm-,"

"I thought you said every minute we're here is dangerous? Why would we wait?" She was getting increasingly annoyed at him.

"Because, apparating to the train station in this storm is dangerous," Nott explained, looking frustrated.

Hermione sighed in annoyance. "Fine. But I'm getting awfully close to changing my mind."

"Quit being a pain in the arse, Granger!" Nott snapped.

Hermione scowled. "How dare you-!"

She froze mid sentence, as a loud, rough laugh echoed from somewhere outside the cottage.

Hermione grabbed her bag, and they both crouched down low. Hermione pointed her wand at the fire, extinguishing it to a small pile of smouldering ash.

They moved closer to the window, and the sound became a bit clearer through the rain.

"Keep it down!" One voice berated, sounding angry.

There was another loud laugh.

"Oh, come on, the little mudblood bitch won't get away this time! Just take a moment to appreciate the look on that little house elves face when that killing curse was flying at it."

The person laughed again, another low rough. Hermione's stomach churned.

"It's no laughing matter to Malfoy," the angry voice responded. "According to him, _we_ fucked up. Doesn't even acknowledge that his wife's a traitorous bitch. We need to finish this now, or we're in deep shit."

There was silence for a moment.

"Come on. Front doors over here. This time I'm going to finish what I started at the Manor, before that old bitch stopped me." Whoever is was sounded like they were a kid about to enter Honeydukes.

The bile in Hermione's stomach began to rise into her throat, and she could feel Nott's eyes boring into the side of her head.

"We need to go," He said, his voice low and urgent.

Hermione nodded. She wasn't sure she could speak, as the fear inside her was too great.

"Let's hope there's a back door," He said, before pulling her arm away from the window, and dragging her along behind him.

The front door opened, just as they exited the room.

"She's not alone!" A low voice boomed.

They heard yelling and cursing, as they raced toward the back of the dark room.

"There's the back door," Hermione hissed, pointing to a glass panelled door in the corner of the room.

They could hear loud footsteps behind them as they barged through the exit. They raced toward the water as quick as they could. Hermione let out a yelp, as a spell hit the wet sand beside her.

She pulled out her wand, and fired over her shoulder, hearing the spell hit the ground.

"Run!" Nott yelled at her, pushing her to keep going as he began a one-on-one battle with one of the wizards.

Hermione stopped only for a split second, before seeing the other cloaked wizard coming for her.

"There's no point running little mud-blood!" He cooed at her, in his breathless voice, "I'm gonna get you!"

Hermione recognised the thick accent immediately, and could almost feel his rough hands on her once more. He had been the one who had almost killed her. She could feel her legs turn numb, but she continued running so hard her lungs were burning, starved of oxygen.

She yelped as a few spells hit the back of her heels, but she never stopped.

She aimed her wand over her shoulder, and sent a stunning spell toward him. She heard it hit the sand, and a low chuckle escape his chest.

"You'll have to do better than that," He teased.

She looked over her shoulder. Nott was tussling on the other end of the beach. She could see the loose rocks appearing up ahead, and knew the edge of the beach was close.

Her foot slipped on one of the rocks, and she had to push herself up again, knowing it cost her her lead.

He was only a few feet away now, and she knew his boots were much better suited to the rocks than her thin tennis shoes.

Her wand arm was shaking, as she sent another spell over her shoulder. However, she yelped loudly, as a hard, heavy body tackled her to the ground.

She felt her wand fall from her fingers.

Before she could grab it, two large hands were around her neck, crushing her wind pipe.

She choked on the lack of air, and her body twisted and turned beneath him.

"You don't even deserve to die by magic," He growled, breathless from his exertion. "You'll die like a muggle whore."

Hermione's hand searched for her wand, but it wasn't within reach. Instead, her desperate fingers clung onto a sharp rock, and she used all her force to smash it into the side of his skull.

His fingers loosened their grip, and he stumbled back. She gasped a breath, and shoved him off using all her force, before grabbing her wand.

He looked docile from his head injury, but scowled as he saw her stand again. She saw him reach for his wand, but before he could, she quickly sent a spell toward him.

"Reducto!" She cried, her voice struggling.

His whole body shifted back with powerful force, and there was a loud crack as his head came in contact with a sharp rock underneath him.

Then there was silence.

Hermione stood, waiting for a groan. A movement. A blink.

But there was nothing.

She took a tentative step closer. She could see his glazed eyes, staring into nothingness. There was a dark liquid seeping from the back of his head, and she realised, with a rush of sickness that it was blood. A lot of it.

"Hermione!" She heard Nott calling out to her. She looked up to find him running toward her.

He slowed down as he took in the scene. He looked back up at her.

"Are you ok?" he asked, eyeing the blood on her jumper.

Hermione nodded. She could see his expression change as he realised it wasn't her blood.

She felt her legs give way, and she tumbled to the ground, her stomach inadvertently churning, and causing her to throw up the soup she'd eaten earlier.

"Let's go," Nott said, pulling her up. "More will come."

It surprised her that he had nothing to say about the dead body in front of them, or the fact that she had just killed someone.

He merely apparated them to the train station, and instructed her to clean up in the bathroom. She binned her blood stained clothes, and wished it were that easy to get rid of memories. Then she remembered it was.

They sat for several hours, waiting for the early morning train to arrive. When it did, they sat in an empty carriage in silence. Hermione didn't bother to ask where they were going. She didn't really care, as long as she could be alone while they were there.

They arrived at an empty platform later that night, and from there they walked through a small town, across an empty field, and into a small area of trees which was seemingly deserted from the outside, but as they walked further into the trees, Hermione could feel the magic crackling around her, and when Nott raised his wand and muttered a silent spell, she watched in awe as a small cottage appeared.

"What's this place?" She asked quietly.

"Malfoy's staying here," he told her, walking toward the front door. "There's a spare room upstairs that I've been staying in. Since you're here I wont be needing it. So you can go and get some sleep. Malfoy is probably out, so I'll wait until he get's back so I can tell him-"

"That I killed someone?" She finished, her voice shaking.

He stared at her, his expression was unreadeable. "No. That I found you and he can pay up. Now go."

He nodded toward the stairs, and she hesitated for a moment, before realising she didn't want to be around people anyway.

For a small house, it was still quite nice. The room she assumed was now hers was adjacent to a bathroom. She went there first, stripping off her clothes and sitting under the shower for a good ten minutes.

After that, she headed to her room, and lay on the bed. It was dark outside, and she found sleep came easily.

* * *

><p>The dreams on the other hand, woke her with a start.<p>

A dark figure was standing in the doorway, and she grabbed her wand.

"Relax, it's just me." Nott hissed. "I'm getting the rest of my things."

"You're leaving?" Hermione asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. I've got some meetings with a few high-up Ministry wizards. At least the rest of my summer will be worthwhile."

"And how did you manage that feat?" Hermione asked.

"Malfoy paid up." He replied. "Apparently his father has so much dirt on these people, they wouldn't dare say no to any favour, even one for his son."

"His father?" Hermione spat.

"Hermione, the sooner you realise there are no good people left in the world, the easier it will be for you to survive."

She scowled at him, but he didn't see.

"I didn't tell Malfoy about your little...incident, tonight. But he is down stairs, impatiently waiting for you to come down."

"He can wait all night for all I care," She spat, feeling hurt at his referral to her new found status as a murderer. She had almost managed to not think about it.

"Fine by me," He shrugged, pulling a bag over his shoulders. "Try to stay out of trouble, Granger."

He left before she could say anything else. It amazed Hermione how he seemed to be two different people in one, and you never knew which one you'd get.

She lay back down against the bed head, trying to ignore the churning in her stomach. She wasn't sure if it was because Malfoy was downstairs, or because she couldn't get the image of that dead wizard out of her mind.

Her mind was going wild at the thoughts and Nott hadn't helped at all. She wanted someone to tell her it wasn't her fault.

She stood tentatively, and walked toward the doorway. She peeked down the short hall toward the stairs. She could hear a fire crackling downstairs, and the dim orange glow was lighting up the ceiling above. She swallowed hard.

To go down there expecting sympathy for what she had done was ridiculous. She knew deep down she didn't even want sympathy. She just wanted someone to know. To tell her _something_. Even if it was to blame her, vilify her, scorn her.

The Draco Malfoy she knew would have done all those things, but the person he was now was different. He was still an arse, but he had seemed to be less hateful, to her, anyway. She wasn't really sure if that's what she wanted.

Did she want someone who would tell her she had done the right thing because they loved her, or someone to tell her the truth because she deserved the truth?

She didn't really care, and before she had even made a choice she found herself tiptoeing down the stairs.

He was seated in front of the blazing fire, unmoving. She almost didn't want to disturb him.

However, when one of the wooden floorboards beneath her creaked under her weight, he turned abruptly at the sound, and his face was about as shocked as hers. They stared at each other for a moment, before Hermione eventually continued walking toward the chair beside him.

She could see him watching her out of the corner of her eye, and decided to let him talk first. She still couldn't fathom that he wouldn't bite her head off.

They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke.

"I wasn't expecting you to come down tonight," he said, his voice a soft hum. "I thought you'd be tired."

Hermione turned to look at him, and could finally take in his whole face.

He looked scruffy, to say the least. His whiskers left a light shadow on his jaw, his hair was messy, and he looked worn out. Still, he somehow seemed to look better than her on her best day.

"You look tired," She said simply.

"Maybe we both need sleep," He said, turning back to the flames.

"I can't," Hermione told him. She closed her eyes. She needed to tell someone about it.

He turned back to her. And she knew there was a lingering question in the silence.

She swallowed thickly, not sure how to say the words. "I killed someone."

She could feel him staring at the side of her head, and couldn't stand to turn and see his expression.

"Who was it?" He asked after a moment. She was surprised at the question, like it mattered.

"A Death Eater." She explained. "One of your fathers 'employees'."

He turned back toward the fire, and she wondered what he was thinking.

"They never did get over the fall of the Dark Lord," he said, almost sounding amused. "Still parading around in those ridiculous costumes..." He shook his head.

Hermione stared at him, bewildered. "That's all you've got to say?"

He shrugged. "What do you want me to say?"

She felt a rush of anger slice through her at his casual tone, and she stood abruptly, staring down at him. She threw her arms up in annoyance.

"I don't know, Malfoy!" She cried, "Tell me I'm a terrible person, that I don't deserve to breath right now. Tell me I'm a filthy mudblood! Tell me I'm an abomination! Tell me something! But don't act as though it doesn't matter. I _killed_ someone! I'm a murderer."

By the end of her rant, she could feel the warm tears running down her cheek. She wiped them away quickly, forgetting that it didn't matter if she cried in front of him now or not.

"Sit down, Hermione." He told her, his voice low. She obliged, after a moment. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. It's just, well, it's hard to be upset at the thought of one of those pieces of shit dying."

"It doesn't make a difference," Hermione stressed.

"I know," he agreed. "But if you had to resort to something like that, then you must have been pushed into it, with no other option."

She sniffled. "He attacked me back at the Manor. I recognised his voice." She cringed at the memory. Draco grit his teeth. "Then more came, just after Nott arrived. I was running, but he caught me. He started choking me. He was already injured when I hit him with a spell, but I still didn't stop."

"No one would have." Draco told her. "You were cornered and scared. It was you or him, and personally, I'd prefer it to be him."

She looked at him, knowing she shouldn't be surprised at his words, but she was.

"I still killed someone," She said, after a moment.

"Yes," Draco nodded. "But you're not a killer. You didn't seek it out like he did. Everyday, people die from potions and spells gone wrong, from people not fixing their brooms properly. Do you think all those people are killers? Of course not. Accidents happen. You didn't intend to kill him. That's not you. So I'm not going to make you feel bad. I can see you feel bad enough, and you don't deserve any more than that."

Hermione stared at him, sniffling occasionally. "I just needed to tell someone."

"I know."

They were quiet for a moment more.

Hermione wondered how, despite all her misgivings toward him, he had been the one to never give up hope for her.

"Why did you care if I lived or died?" She asked him, suddenly.

He was quiet, and Hermione wondered if he was going to answer her question. After a moment, he shifted in his seat, before speaking.

"Mostly it was because I couldn't stand the thought." He said, staring into the fire. "The thought of you simply not existing anymore, and the thought that it would have been my fault. Blaise was the one that told me..."

"You didn't believe him?" She asked. It surprised her.

"I'm not even sure Zabini believed himself, deep down," He told her. "He's never been good with handling things like that."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Like what?"

Draco let out a long breath. "Death."

Hermione sputtered in disbelief. "Well, of course he shouldn't! He's too young to have to deal with that sort of stuff," She paused for a moment, "We all are."

"He needs to get used to it," Draco said, strongly. "He can't just give up whenever he gets bad news. If it were up to him, you'd still be in danger."

Hermione laughed wryly. "And I'm not in danger now? I'm sitting here with the son of the wizard who wants me to disappear, by _any_ means necessary, while at he same time his mother seems to be helping me."

It was a ridiculous situation. And when put in plain terms Hermione realised just how ridiculous it really was.

"Don't trust my mother," Draco said darkly, "She may not wish you any harm, but it doesn't mean she's not a threat."

Hermione turned to him, fiercely, "I don't trust her. I don't trust anyone. But so far, she has shown me some form of mercy, which doesn't seem to extend to the rest of your family."

Draco threw his arms up in exasperation. "What am I, then? Chopped dragon liver?!"

Hermione stood quickly, glaring down at him. "Is that why I'm here? Because you want me to praise you, and tell you how you're my hero?" She laughed wryly. "I'm not a damsel in distress, Malfoy. I'm sick of that title. From now on I'm looking out for myself."

Draco stood, his expression fierce, but she could see a twinge of hurt. "You've always been strong, Hermione. But the point of having friends is that you have people to look out for you. It doesn't make you a coward!"

Hermione let out a bitter laugh. "If you are implying that you are my friend, Malfoy, then you are sorely mistaken."

She turned and left, leaving him to stare after her with a pained expression.

Why had she even agreed to come here? For some reason she thought perhaps she could see Draco Malfoys face again, and not feel her stomach churn with anger and disgust, but it never changed.

And now there was more anger than ever because he was trying to manipulate her with his lies. People never really changed, they just changed what they wanted.

* * *

><p>Hermione didn't wake the next day until the sun had already passed her window. The incident from last night was still fresh in her mind, and she sat on her bed for a few minutes, pondering whether she should face him by going down stairs. Maybe she could just climb out the window...?<p>

She sighed to herself. She had to stick to her guns.

She made her way down stairs quietly, and peeked around the small room below which she only now realised combined a kitchen, dining and sitting room all in one. The other thing she noticed was that it was noticeably empty of Draco Malfoy presence.

The smell of freshly made food dragged her from her thoughts, and she eyed they table. There was a pot of tea and plate of pancakes sitting there. There was also a large, silver bowl that looked like something she had seen in a book before. She walked toward the table, and picked up a note that was sitting beside her cup.

Underneath it was a small velvet box. She turned back to the note.

_I wish I wasn't so easy to hate. This is harder the second time. I just want you to remember. DM_

She sat the note down, feeling a mixture of emotions. Annoyance, pity, and strangest of all, longing to remember. But she knew that no amount of longing would change things. Nothing would make her see Draco in a different light.

She picked up the velvet box and opened it. Inside was a silver shell. It looked expensive. Underneath it sat a worn note. She picked it up, trying to make out the writing. It was impossible to read, but she could see it with signed with a curly "DM". What was this about?

It was then that she noticed something else sitting in the box. A vial filled with what looked like silver smoke. She suddenly realised what they were. Memories. He had given her his memories, and the large silver bowl beside her wasn't just a bowl, it was a pensieve. Where had he gotten that?

She swallowed, wondering if she really wanted to see them what resided in Draco Malfoys mind. She realised quite quickly that her curiosity was far too great to not look.

She sat down at the table, completely forgetting about her breakfast, despite the fact her stomach was growling quite loudly.

She slid the heavy pensieve over in front of her, and took a steady breath and she gently unstopped the vial. She poured the silvery contents into the bowl, and watched as it swirled and twisted in different directions.

She swallowed, before taking another deep breath and lowing her head into the pensieve. The scene came together from the silver wisps, and she found herself standing in a dark alley, except she wasn't alone.

Two tall boys stood next to her. Draco and Blaise. She wondered for a moment if they could see her, but when Blaise looked straight through her head, she realised she was merely viewing the memory. Draco's memory.

Blaise scratched his head, looking anxious.

"I really don't want to fucking go down there." Blaise said, his face an expression of distaste as he looked through Hermione's head. "It smells like death and the witches always try to touch me."

Hermione turned to see where he was looking, and realised they were standing at the entrance of Knockturn Alley. It really did smell bad. She had never been to that part of Diagon Alley, but the memory was so vivid, that she felt as though she were really there now.

There was a thick layer of white on the ground. Snow. It must be sometime near Christmas, as despite how dull and dark Knockturn Alley was, there were a few stores with decorations for the season.

"Don't be a wimp," Draco shot back. "I've got to get her something unique. Borgin & Burkes is my best shot."

Hermione wondered if he was talking about her...?

Blaise sighed. "Cant you just get something from Fred and George Weasleys shop? They have loads of stuff. If you get something for Hermione here, she'll probably end up cursed."

Draco gave him a look. "Don't be ridiculous, Zabini. You know they only curse it if you ask them to."

Hermione almost opened her mouth to protest this news, but remembered she wasn't really here and they wouldn't hear her anyway.

Blaise raised his brows. "You should probably ask them to curse it with a love potion, otherwise she might just throw it back in your face."

Draco's face grew pink, and Hermione wasn't sure if he was embarrassed or angry.

He skulked off leaving Blaise in the shadows. Hermione followed, with Blaise just steps behind her.

She slipped past Draco as he opened the door to Borgin & Burkes. She noticed it was empty, apart from a few cloaked wizards whose face's were shadowed. Draco began perusing the shelves across from her, and she turned to watch the intent expression on his face. It reminded her of what her face must be like when reading an interesting book.

Blaise strolled over to where Draco was, and looked in the shelf. He let out a low whistle.

"They don't come cheap," He said, eyeing the trinkets, and rings, and necklaces.

"It's worth every galleon," Draco said, not looking away. Hermione stared at him, not sure how to feel about his words. Seeing him this way was different. He was so different to the Draco she remembered.

"What about that one?" Draco said, pointing at something behind the glass cabinet. Hermione stood on her tip toes trying to see above them, but couldn't.

"A ring?" Blaise questioned, uncertainly. "Bit soon, don't you think? She hasn't even said she likes you yet."

Draco turned to glare at the Italian, and he held up him hands in surrender. "I'm kidding, mate. But I think a ring is the wrong choice. You want something that will get you 'close to her heart'.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise. "Where'd you get that soppy crap?"

He shrugged. "Luna said it once. She's a girl, so she'd probably know."

Hermione almost smiled at their confusion. It was amusing.

"I'm not going to take advice from Loony," Draco shot back, looking outraged.

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "Stop calling her that."

He glared at Draco, until the other boy sighed in defeat.

"What would _Luna_ suggest then?" Draco asked, ignoring Blaises scowls.

Blaise seemed to calm down after Draco's use of her proper name.

"Well, I don't know." He admitted, looking lost. "We could take it in the figurative sense, I suppose, in which case, it would probably be a book."

Draco bit his lip. "No, she has millions of books. It needs to be something different."

He perused the cabinet more intently. "What about that?"

Blaise looked at where he was pointing. He shrugged. "I guess."

"Well, it would sit close to her heart," he said.

"I don't think it's meant to be taken in the literal sense," Blaise explained.

Draco merely shrugged, "Fuck literal."

He got a wizard to grab the necklace out, and for the first time Hermione could see a shining silver sea shell.

Draco handed the wizard a sack of Galleons. "I want you to put a spell on it too."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. What spell?

Blaise stepped forward. "Mate, I was joking before-,"

"I want you to make it so it plays a nice tune when you hold it to your ear. But only for as long as I... love the person I'm giving it to."

He stood his ground, but Hermione could see it embarrassed him to no end to ask for such a thing.

The gruff wizard eyed them for a moment, before nodding. He made Draco hold the pendant, before pointing his wand at it.

"That should do the trick." The wizard said after a moment. "Won't stop playing for as long as you love the person, also if you die." He turned to Blaise with a low chuckle."Make sure he doesn't die, or you won't hear that pretty tune anymore."

They stared at the man with wide-eyes.

"What-"

"No-"

"It's for a girl-"

The wizard broke down in guffaws a second later, and both boys glared at him before leaving.

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle a little at their awkward expressions. She was certain that Draco didn't mean to share that part of the memory.

"That git," Blaise seethed, as they stepped out of the shop. "Why would he assume I would be the 'girl'? You style your hair more then me."

The memory began to get foggy, and Hermione knew it was coming to an end when their conversation became muffled.

She sat up from the pensieve a moment later, a million thoughts running through her head.

She stared at the silver pendant on the table in front of her. She didn't want to care, but curiosity got the better of her.

She picked up the pendent with a shaking hand, not really sure what she was afraid of. She placed the silver shell beside her ear, and her heart skipped a beat.

She heard the most beautiful melody playing, and she didn't want it to end.

She closed her eyes, and couldn't help but wonder how she had reacted to this the first time she had heard it. It must have been special to her, right? It would have meant a lot, wouldn't it?

It irritated her to no end how she didn't want to love Draco, but she wanted to remember what she felt for him. Just to see if it were real. To see why. Had it been sudden, and abrupt, or had it taken a long time to build, like the delicate spinning of a web?

Had they been playful with each other? Had they had deep and meaningful conversations about their futures? Had he complimented her? Had they fought constantly, but ended it with laughter? Had he admitted that her blood hadn't mattered? Had he hidden her from the public eye? Had he been ashamed of his feelings? Had she ever really, publicly, and all-knowingly been his, and him hers?

She couldn't think of a world, not even now, where that could happen.

There was a movement by the door, and Hermione moved the pendant from her ear swiftly, and looked up at the sound.

Draco was standing by the back door, leaning against it. She narrowed her eyes.

"How long have you been there?" She asked, her voice shaky with a mixture of emotions. Mostly anger and embarrassment.

"Not long," he replied in a low, calm voice. He looked down, and she hid the pendant, even though she knew he'd already seen her with it. "You didn't eat."

She opened her mouth to retort to what she expected would be a smart-arse remark, but stopped short. She turned to stare at the plate of now stale pancakes and cold tea.

"I wasn't hungry," She lied, intent on being independent.

Just as she said it, her stomach growled loud enough for them to both hear. He sighed.

"Stop being stubborn, Granger," He moved toward the table. "Let me make you something. I'm not saying I'm the greatest chef. I've never actually cooked much before now, but luckily most of these muggle foods I get from the shops here come with instructions. "

He smirked, and she stared at it like someone who had never seen it before. And it was because she felt like she hadn't. His smirk wasn't hateful at all, and he was poking fun at himself. It was too familiar.

She stood quickly. "I'll make some food later."

His smile fell, and he stared at her with an expression she had never seen on him before. He looked...desperate.

It was almost too hard to keep looking at his face. Something inside her stomach was churning at the sight.

She went to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist.

"I know you want to know how you felt for me," he said, strongly. "You wouldn't be here otherwise. If you truly hated me, you would have told Nott to go fuck himself when he turned up on your doorstep."

"I was scared," she shot back. "I would have shared a cave with a dragon if I thought I would be safe."

"That's bullshit and you know it," He said, slicing through her excuses like a sharp knife. "The Hermione I know wouldn't settle. You've never settled. I worked my bloody arse of to get you, and I know how hard it is to win your trust. I also know that it's because of the years I fucked with you, so you don't have to tell me that."

"Don't act as though you're sorry now," she spat, feeling her hatred return quickly with the memory of their past.

"I am sorry!" He said, loudly, his face inches from hers. "I regret every bad word I ever said to you, every time I put a hand on you in a hateful way. The whole time I did it, I thought I _did_ hate you. Every time you beat me on a test, mastered a spell or potion before me, I fucking hated it."

He sighed, rubbing his hand across his forhead in a pained way.

"Then I started to hate that smile you did when a teacher praised your work. The way you'd bite your lip when writing a difficult essay. I hated your frizzy hair, which looked so soft, and smelt like apples whenever I passed you. I hated the way I could pick out your laugh, out of _everybodies_ in the Great Hall, and I hated the way it was always Longbottom who made you laugh."

Hermione stared at him, shocked. Her heart was racing at the close proximity.

"I hated the way your little skirt would ride up your thigh in potions, and I'd spend the whole damn lesson staring at it and miss all the note-taking. How, no matter how many time's I called you ugly, you just got more bloody beautiful, and all I would think about late at night. And I fucking hated how, of all the people in the world I could obsess over, it was the worlds joke to make it a Muggle-born."

Hermione noted that it was the first time he had referred to her as a Muggle-born, she wondered when that had started.

Draco was breathing heavily by the end of his rant, his expression fiery. He had just spilled his every thought to her, and she secretly needed to hear it.

"Don't torture me again, Granger." He said quietly. "I've spent years torturing both of us, and I don't want that anymore. I regret every bad thing I've done, but I had my reasons at the time."

"You could have just ignored me, pretended I didn't exist like the rest of the school," Hermione replied.

Draco nodded. "I guess I could have. But I didn't want to take the risk of you not knowing I existed, when every night I was fantasising about taking you on Snape's desk."

Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed, and Draco seemed to realise what he said. He shoved his hands in his pocket, staring at his feet. They stood in silence for a moment.

"I probably did love you, before this whole memory thing happened," Hermione admitted. Draco looked up at her, his expression intent. "But I'm assuming the circumstances for that happening were a lot easier before. Maybe that was a one off chance, Malfoy, because I don't see myself feeling that way again. In all honesty, I just want this whole thing to be over so I can go home, and never have to see a Malfoy again in my life."

It was harsh, but it was how she felt. She was exhausted, and sick of hiding. The moment he realised that their time had passed, the easier it would be.

He stared at her for a moment, as if gauging the truth of her words.

"I don't believe that," he said after a moment. She sighed.

"Then don't," She said, "but, please, just leave me alone."

She turned and left, feeling awkward as he stared after her. She ran up the stairs, and into her room, closing the door behind her.

Ironically, she felt like the cruel one for saying those words to him. But they were true. She didn't love him, and she didn't know how she had come to love him. But a part of her mind was screaming at her. The part that believed that maybe she should just trust herself, and give in to his words. But mostly, she just wanted her life back, and her memories. And she knew, being so close to Draco Malfoy meant that none of that would happen.

* * *

><p>Blaise lay staring at the high ceiling of his bedroom that day, sending himself mad with his thoughts. Potter and Weasley were visiting Diagon Alley with Weasleys family, but Blaise had declined an invitation, as he wasn't really up for going anywhere.<p>

He, instead, was thinking furiously about where Draco could be, and whether Hermione was actually dead. Everything he had thought, was starting to look as though it might not be true.

He had tried to visit Malfoy Manor once more, in a last attempt to get some answers, but he had been turned away by a wizard at the door. He was sure they were hiding something, or perhaps Narcissa was in danger. He wasn't so much worried for her, just the answers she had.

His thoughts were interrupted by a crack, and Loccy appeared in his room.

"Master Zabini has a visitor," Loccy informed him. "Does Master Zabini want Loccy to send them away?"

Blaise frowned, who would be visiting him? "Who is it?"

"Loccy has never met the witch before," He told Blaise.

Blaise sat up quickly. The witch?

Loccy apparated him down to the sitting room, and immediately his expression dropped. Pansy Parkinson was seated on his lounge, with a shawl dramatically wrapped around her head. She was always one for drama, and he knew of only one reason she would be here.

"I don't know where Draco is," Blaise drawled, "and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

She looked up at Blaise with a bored expression. "Do you honestly think I'm still crying over our never-to-be wedding, Blaise?"

Blaise raised his brow. "Of course I do. I've known you since we were kids, Pansy, and you've always gotten what you wanted, with the help of a tantrum of course."

She removed her gloves. "Well, tantrums aren't much help when your fiance has run off. My father decided the Malfoys had embarrassed our family for long enough, so he was the one to cancel the betrothal."

Blaise sighed. He wasn't interested in Pansy's life. "Did you come here just to tell me that?"

She glared at him, her pale skin and dark hair making it seem more harsh. "No, I didn't. Despite what you might think, Blaise, Draco and I were friends. Before he changed his tune about me, we got along. I was the only one that really shared his hatred for Granger, which now seems was a bit of confusion on his part."

"What's your point?" Blaise asked.

"My point is, I don't hate him like you seem to think I do. We've all changed. I know if I had married him, I would never have been happy being second best to a mud-blood. Even though I'll never be the most powerful and richest woman in the wizarding world, at least I'll be with a man who respects me for my blood status, and is proud of me."

"Good for you," Blaise drawled.

"Well, I would never do any favours for that mudblood," Pansy said, screwing her face up, "but I would for my father."

"Your father used to be a death eater, and probably still kills people," Blaise spat, his expression full of disgust.

Pansy jutted out her chin. "My father is a respectable man. He's the Head of the Auror department, for Merlins sake. He would never kill someone!" She let out a short breath and looked at her hands.

Blaise rolled his eyes. Pansy had no idea the kind of things her father had done in the past, and probably still did now. She was in denial. He listened half-heartedly as she continued speaking.

"I was in my father's study the other night, I was only going through his desk to steal some of his cigars for a party I was attending. Anyway, I came across a stack of letters from Lucius Malfoy." She hesitated.

"And?" Blaise prompted. He hoped she was about to tell him some relevent information.

"Well, I only read them because I saw Draco's name mentioned. Lucius was basically ordering my father to kill the mudblood." She looked stressed, and Blaise admitted that she had reason to."He was saying he was powerful enough to have my whole family wiped out if he didn't do it."

"So Hermione isn't dead?" Blaise asked, his heart in his throat. Pansy shook her head.

"Another letter said that Mrs Malfoy had helped her escape. Lucius couldn't prove it though, as it was right after you attacked them in the manor."

Blaise furrowed his brow. "How come they haven't come after us?"

Pansy shrugged. "If they did, it would only draw suspicion, all Lucius seems to want is to kill Granger and find Draco."

"And why does that bother you?" Blaise asked. It sounded like all Pansy would want.

"Because he's trying to make my father do his dirty work." She cried. "If he got caught, which he would, he would go to Azkaban for life, and our name would be nothing."

"That's why you're telling me this?" Blaise aksed. Pansy nodded.

"Pansy, I know you're upset, but your father has probably already done enough to get himself sent to Azkaban." Blaise told her, trying to sound sympathetic. "I doubt this is the first time he has asked your father for favours."

Pansy eyed him, her eyes were filled with tears. "I know that, Blaise. But I don't want my father doing that. He's a powerful man without Lucius Malfoy, he doesn't need him."

Blaise didn't understand where this was going. "Why are you here, Pansy?"

"In one of the older letters," Pansy sniffled, "Lucius asked my father to be involved in a muggle attack in some town, I can't remember the name."

Blaise frowned. "A muggle attack? Did he do it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think so. But it was the attack on Granger they were talking about. She was staying at some muggle girls house when it happened."

Blaise couldn't believe it. It was the night Hermione's memories were erased. They finally had proof that Lucius was behind Hermione's attack.

"You need to get that letter, Pansy." Blaise told her, feeling desperate. "You need to hand it in. Not to just anyone, but the Minister of Magic himself."

Pansy shook her head quickly. "No. No. If I hand it in my father goes to Azkaban. I'm telling you so you can find another way to take Lucius down, without hurting my family."

Blaise grit his teeth. "This is bigger than your family, Pansy." He growled.

She stood, wiping her eyes, her expression told him that she would find a different option. "Take it or leave it, Blaise."

When he didn't answer, she began making her way out.

"Wait!" He succumbed after a moment. She stopped walking and turned to face him.

"Just tell me what you know. What else did the letters say?" He asked.

Pansy strolled back to the chair. "Alot. And I've already made a plan."

Blaise raised his brow. "And what is your plan?"

He didn't have much hope that it was a good plan. Pansy had never been one for anything more than talking about hair, and clothing. Although, she seemed different. Maybe she was finally realising to get anywhere in the world, you need brains.

"Well, the only reason that no one has been accused for the attack on Granger is because the Ministry lacks any witnesses." Pansy explained. "Granger has no memories, and the muggle girl was obliviated. From my research, I believe the Weasley family has taken her in."

Blaise nodded slowly. "I've met her since. She doesn't remember a thing. Neither of them do, so how does this help us?"

Pansy eyed him, as though he were missing an important point.

"Granger's memories were never destroyed." Pansy said slowly, her expression excited.

Blaise sighed. He had spoken with Hermione many times since the incident of her memory loss. She remembered nothing.

"Pansy, she doesn't remember a thing." Blaise drawled. "I've spoken to her, which is more than I can say for you."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Her memories are gone from her head, Blaise," She said slowly like he was daft, "but they aren't _gone_. Lucius Malfoy has them."

Blaise stared at her for a moment, gauging what she was saying. "How do you know that?" He asked, his heart racing.

If Hermione's memories were simply stolen, not destroyed, they may be able to get them back.

"It happened shortly after I paid Lavender Brown to search Grangers things for evidence of an affair with Draco. It was easy because Granger was already away from school." Pansy eyed Blaise as though worried about his reaction. "I found a locket and a note. I was so angry, I sent them to Lucius, then Granger was attacked a couple of days later."

Blaise stared at her, his expression growing more dangerous. "So you're saying this is your fault?"

She shook her head, quickly. "No, it's not. People were already growing suspicious of them."

"But you told Lucius," Blaise snapped. He couldn't believe the selfishness of this girl. Constantly looking out for herself and her own.

Pansy stared at the carpet, he had to admit she looked ashamed, but he wasn't fooled by her.

"I was upset, Blaise," She said, "I didn't think Lucius would do anything. I thought he'd just order Draco to stop."

Blaise rolled his eyes. He didn't believe that. Pansy wanted Hermione out of the picture. He could barely stand to be near her, but he needed more answers.

"Why did he extract the memories, instead of just destroying them?" Blaise asked, his voice tense.

Pansy shrugged. "Maybe so he could view them for himself? Maybe to use them as leverage in the future? Maybe because she was a witness to a crime organised by Lucius? I don't know, Blaise."

Blaise bit his lip. "Do you know where Draco is?"

Pansy shook her head. "No one does."

Blaise nodded. If Pansy didn't know, then maybe Lucius didn't. At least Draco would be safe.

"So, if we find the memories, then what?" Blaise asked. "Hermione's missing. She has been since Lucius got his hands on her again."

"You find her, give them to her, she's able to point the finger at Lucius, and he goes down." Pansy snarled. She really didn't like him. "My family is safe, your friends are safe, everybody wins."

Blaise had to admit it really was a win-win situation. They already had no hope of ever getting their lives back to normal, what would it hurt to chase this lead?

Blaise had to admit he didn't trust Pansy one bit, but they seemed to both want the same thing. Blaise bit his lip. After giving up so easily, he owed it to Hermione and Draco to at least try and fix this.

Blaise nodded toward Pansy, who was waiting impatiently for his answer.

"Everybody wins."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hop you enjoyed. Please review :)  
><strong>

**-Leni**


	30. Chapter 30- The End

**Chapter 30**

_...in which the end finally comes._

* * *

><p>Hermione's eyes blinked open, and she let out a short groan. A quick knock on the door had woken her, and from the light seeping through the window, she could tell it was early morning.<p>

She rolled over. Couldn't Malfoy just let her sleep?

She had discovered, from listening to his footsteps, that his room was just across from hers, next to the bathroom. She had heard him get up earlier that morning and walk down the stairs. Hermione would normally be up relatively early, as she liked the refreshing feeling of it, but she now found herself sleeping in longer to avoid the imminent conversation she would have to force with Draco.

She sighed, before rolling back over. She couldn't sleep forever.

She slumped out of bed, trying in a futile attempt to flatten her curls down with her hand. She dragged her tired body to the door and opened it, ready to berate Draco for waking her. However, when she opened the door he wasn't there, and instead a tray of toast soldiers and soft-boiled eggs, with a big cup of tea sat at the doorway. Her throat caught. This was the breakfast her mother would make for her when she was younger. It had and always would be her favourite.

Her stomach grumbled loudly, and it was only then that she realised she hadn't eaten since she had arrived here, finding her pride to strong to take anything from the blond. It seemed that Draco hadn't forgotten that either, as the tray was rather full.

She sat on her bed and enjoyed each bite of the delicious breakfast as it filled her thankful stomach. She mused at how well Draco had made the eggs, as they were quite difficult to get right, and could only assume he'd had the help of his wand.

She finished the last piece of toast, basking in how good it felt to have a decent meal and a full stomach. She decided that maybe she wouldn't spend the whole day in her room, bored, and that perhaps she would sit outside in the sun and read a book. Draco had already made a peace offering for the day, perhaps he would leave her alone.

She showered quickly, and pulled on a light dress, leaving her feet shoeless. She stared in the bathroom mirror at her reflection. Her hair was slightly tamer, as it hung in damp curls around her neck. The skin under her eyes was slightly brighter, and she could only attribute it to the sleep she'd had last night. It was the first time she'd felt safe in a while.

Overall, Hermione felt refreshed. Something she hadn't felt in a long time.

She left the bathroom and headed downstairs with a book. She glanced around the lower portion of the house to find it empty. Maybe Malfoy was out?

She opened the front door, and breathed in the warm air deeply before stepping out into the sun.

She spotted a nice area under a nearby tree that looked like a relaxing place to read. She headed over, and sat down, leaning her back against the tree trunk.

The area surrounding the cabin was beautiful. It was a thick wood of trees, some in bloom, others dead or dying. Their leaves scattered the ground, leaving a satisfying crunch under her feet as she walked. Hermione tried to see through the trees to the area beyond, but they were far too thick. It was isolated, but not in a disturbing way. She felt quite safe here.

She opened up her book to the page where her tatty bookmark sat, and began reading.

After a few moments, she heard a rustling noise coming from the other side of the trees. Her heart raced. She had groped her hand around her wand, just in time to see a blond head of hair appear from within the woods, dragging a small tree trunk behind him.

She noted immediately that he was wearing no shirt, but tried not to focus on that aspect. Instead, she frowned curiously, watching as he pulled it a small branch behind him. When he stopped in front of the house, and picked up an axe, she realised what it was for.

It had been rather cold at night, and she hadn't really wondered what was keeping the fire ablaze.

He swung the axe up high and brought it down on the log with a force that split it half way through. Hermione cringed, as she noticed the axe went rather close to his foot. He swung it above him again, and this time the log split all the way through, though she could still hardly watch for fear that he would cut his foot in two.

She realised suddenly that she was showing far too much interest in his activities, and lowered her head back to her book trying to ignore the sound of the chopping axe and falling wood. It was only when she had read the same line at least five times over, that she heard a sharp string of curses from across the grass.

She jumped at the abrupt noise at first, before looking over toward Malfoy. He was seated on the ground, cupping his boot covered foot. Hermione's stomach lurched, as she jumped up and raced toward him.

She stood above him, panicking that maybe he had actually gone and cut his foot off.

"What's wrong?" She asked, her voice full of anxiety.

He looked up as though he just noticed her there, his face contorted into a grimace.

"My foot," He managed to say through grit teeth.

Hermione kneeled and noted with relief that there was no blood. That was a plus, atleast. His boot was still intact, meaning he hadn't cut himself.

She unlaced his boot, and began to slide it off his foot. He hissed in pain.

"What exactly happened?" Hermione asked. She had been so busy trying to ignore him, that she had missed it.

"The bloody log fell on my foot, but I'm fine," he insisted in a strained voice. She ignored him and continued removing his shoe. He grit his teeth.

"Do you have to do that so roughly?" He asked sharply.

She glared at him. "Do you want help or not?"

He looked up at her, his expression one of pain and regret. He nodded.

She managed to get his boot off, after many a string of curse words from Draco, some she'd never even heard of before.

She inspected his foot. It was already bruising, and it looked slightly warped.

"I think it's safe to say it's broken," she told him, eyeing the blue and red marks covering his foot. "Have you got any potions that will take away the pain, or heal bones?"

He shook his head. "No. This is a muggle area. They don't sell any supplies around here to make anything."

She sighed. What kind of wizard didn't keep a stock of healing potions? "Well, then it will have to heal the muggle way."

"What way is that?" He asked looking wary.

"The long way," She explained, standing.

She helped him stand, and he hopped on one foot, with her assistance, to the lounge in front of the unlit fire.

"Lay down," She ordered. He did.

She sat down on the other end of the couch, and pulled out her wand. She eyed him cautiously.

"This is going to hurt," she told him. He looked like he was trying to hide his nervousness.

"What will?" He asked, but before answering, she waved her wand, and a loud crack and crunch resounded from his foot as the boned realigned themselves. She grimaced at the noise, and he groaned in pain.

"That will." She explained, feeling sorry, but slightly amused at his reaction.

His eyes were hooded as he stared at her. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

She looked at his face, before shrugging. "I don't particularly enjoy being near you. But I have to admit, seeing you powerless is quite refreshing."

He didn't even flinch at her open disdain; he'd become far too used to it. Instead, he lay his head back and stared at the ceiling.

"You used to enjoy being near me." He said, in a low mumble.

Hermione wondered if he was even talking to her, or just musing to himself.

She waved her wand again, this time casting a sedation charm on him. It would relieve his pain, and maybe even the strange feeling of guilt in her stomach from her own harsh words.

After a moment, his eyed fluttered shut against his will and his head lulled back against the arm rest of the couch. Hermione sat staring at him for a moment, before catching herself and standing. This was not a time to start pitying Malfoy.

She stood abruptly and walked up stairs, only letting her breath out once the door to her room was closed, with her safely hidden behind it.

She wondered why she had helped him, why she had even cared if he hurt himself. He had hurt her countless times, and she had always thought that seeing him in pain would be the most satisfying sight to behold. She supposed under normal circumstances it would. She would probably have even cast a charm on the log to make it weigh more.

But that would be under different circumstances.

In the current moment, her curiosity for Draco was causing her to think of him more than she cared to.

She had loved him once. She had somehow managed to look past his faults, his mistakes, his actions and see something in him she had never cared to look for before.

It must have taken time, and patience, and it would have been caused by a change in him. He was different now, and she supposed that had helped, however, in some ways he was still the argumentative, stubborn git he had always been, which perplexed her.

But she couldn't ignore the feeling. That damn curiosity which had kept her here. The curiosity which had stopped her from leaving the second she set eyes on his stupid face.

She sighed.

She lay her head against her pillow, and stared at the ceiling. She didn't even know what she felt anymore.

* * *

><p>"I don't like it," Weasley warned, his voice full of worry, and suspicion.<p>

"Neither do I," Blaise responded, feeling the same, "But this is the only solid thing we have to go on."

Potter made a face, as Weasley flailed his arms.

"Solid?!" Weasley crowed. "I wouldn't trust Pansy's word, even if she were at the end of a Cruciatis curse! That witch is bad news, mate."

"She's a bloody terrible kisser too," Potter mused, staring off.

The both stared at him in disgust, before turning back to each other.

"Look," Blaise began, trying to reason, "Pansy is normally someone I wouldn't trust either, but she has something to lose. And when people have something to lose, they get desperate."

Weasley shook his head slowly, as though it made no difference. Potter sat adjusting his glasses.

"Even if it is true," he said, straightening them on his nose. "What do you suppose we could do about it? I mean, if Lucius Malfoy has Hermione's memories hidden away like some sick, perverse trophy, then we sure as hell wouldn't have any chance of finding them."

He had a point. Blaise sighed.

"Did Pansy happen to say anything about where he was keeping them?" Weasley asked.

Blaise shook his head. Pansy hadn't given him much information, just what she knew. And he had a feeling she didn't know a lot.

"So, basically, we've got nothing again," Potter sighed. Blaise understood the feeling of placing hope on something, only to have it dashed.

"It's not nothing," He insisted. "It's just a clue, a hint. Pansy wouldn't have risked coming here unless she was scared."

Potter shrugged limply, tilting his head. "I dunno, mate. For all we know, she could be working for Lucius Malfoy, trying to gain our trust in the hopes that we might know where Draco is."

Blaise rubbed his hands together, staring at the smudge of dirt on his black dragon-hide boots.

"It's a possibility," he admitted after a moment, knowing that he had already thought of it. However, to him, the chance of finding something to put Lucius away was too much of a priority to start questioning the trust of everybody. Even if he normally would.

He missed his best mate, and he felt responsible for everything. He had encouraged Draco to pursue Hermione from the beginning, knowing that she would have nothing but a beneficial influence on his stubborn attitude, and cruel intentions. He knew that Draco was reluctant due to her blood, and the trouble it would bring both of them.

But within the safe walls of Hogwarts, reality could be forgotten, and one could be forgiven for thinking that things like blood status didn't matter. But they did. A harsh reality that had come rushing back as soon as the attack on Hermione had occurred.

However, by that point it was too late. She was already a target, and Draco had come too far to pretend he didn't care.

The only thing that could bring them safety now, would be for the source of danger to disappear.

"If it is true," Weasley began, looking thoughtful, "then we know those memories would be somewhere safe, hidden away, only for Lucius' enjoyment. Where is safer then Malfoy Manor?"

"We should search there first then," Potter agreed.

Blaise merely nodded. However, he knew that it would be difficult to get away with that after their last escapade at the Manor. Security had obviously been tightened since then, and they had some planning to do before it was possible.

However, despite the dangers, Blaise was ready to shake Lucius Malfoys hand with the hand of revenge.

* * *

><p>Hermione jumped at the sound of creaking downstairs. She stood abruptly, leaving her open book face down on the bed, and exited the room in a hurry.<p>

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she found Draco sitting on the large rug, attempting to stand. She sighed loudly, feeling frustrated that he would even attempt to walk.

"What are you doing?" She asked, stomping to his side, and looking down at him.

He exhaled slowly, looking annoyed at his weakness. "I was thirsty," he admitted.

Hermione suddenly realised she had left him asleep on the lounge, with no water around.

"Oh," She said weakly. "Well, why didn't you just call me down? I would have gotten you a drink. I bet your foot hurts even more now."

Draco tried to hide his grimace behind his stern expression. "My foot's fine. And I can get my own drink."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Haven't you realised by now that stubbornness gets you nowhere?"

He turned slowly, looking up at her with a bland expression. "Really? You're going to lecture me about stubbornness, Granger? _You_ are the most stubborn person I've met."

She stared at him in shock for a moment, before feeling her defenses kick in.

Hermione felt her cheeks growing hot. She grit her teeth. "If I were injured I would at least ask for help."

He raised a brow, "Would you ask for _my_ help?"

She hesitated. "Well, I certainly wouldn't be proud, so yes."

He saw straight through it.

"Liar." He spat, shifting to a standing position, limping on his foot. He let out a sharp breath of pain. Hermione noticed the floor creaked worryingly beneath him as he steadied himself, but it was the least of her problems currently.

She was taken aback by the malice in his voice. It had been so long since she heard it directed toward her, that it made her begin to shake from fear, a reactions she hadn't missed, and had almost forgotten.

Instead, however, she decided to give back a little of what she had gotten over the years. She had promised herself that she would no longer be a victim, and she wouldn't.

"I see you're back to being the hate-filled little snake I always knew." She snapped. He stared at her, his expression full of what she thought was hurt.

"If you thought I was that person," he said slowly, his eyes narrowed, "Then you never knew me."

She crossed her arms, trying to keep composed.

"Lucky me," she said, "I suppose I've been looking at all of this the wrong way. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise for me to forget you. An escape, if you will, because you clearly have a sadistic mind, you lack empathy, sympathy, any real human emotion either scares you or you are ashamed to feel it!"

She took a deep breath, annoyed that she had raised her voice, but too angry to really care.

Draco stared at her for a moment, looking shocked by her outburst, and she thought for a moment that she might have rendered him speechless. However, after a moment he spoke. It annoyed her that he didn't yell, or scream, all the things she wanted from him, but instead he spoke calmly, for once making her feel like the vicious one.

"You can judge me on my past actions if it helps refresh your hatred for me," He said, his voice low and steady. "But _you_ are a hypocrite. I have been nothing but courteous to you, trying to make up for my past, and you still feel justified in torturing me with your cruel words, knowing they cut me deeper than any curse ever could. _You_ are the one that is lacking empathy."

She opened her mouth to argue back, but he didn't give her a chance.

"I couldn't stand to torture you like this," he said simply. He limped past her, and she wasn't sure if the grimace on his face was because of the physical pain, or the emotional pain.

She watched as he attempted to climb the stairs, it was a poor attempt.

As much as she hated to admit it though, he was right. She was the stubborn one, the unsympathetic one, the one who would sway between being courteous, to being downright cruel. Every time she was nice, she remembered who she was talking to, and all the bitterness came rushing back.

How had she learned to forgive him in the first place?

She sighed. There was a part of her, an inane sense of curiosity, that was keeping her near him. Normally, she would have left long ago, rather then stay in his presence, but under the guise of having no where else to go, she stayed, hoping to see something that would make her understand what she had seen in him.

And she had seen many things.

His physical attributes were the most obvious. He was tall, lean and fit. His muscles could be seen, but not obnoxiously so. His face was pleasing to look at, his blond hair looked soft, and she had often wondered how many times she ran her fingers through it. More importantly, she wondered how much she had enjoyed it.

His personality was the biggest difference that she noted. He was probably right about her not knowing him that well. She never did while he was allowing people to believe he was cold and cruel. He acted up, he was angry, all for some unknown reason. And now he wasn't. He seemed to have let her in long ago, and despite how many times she told herself she didn't care, she was worried he would shut her out again before she could find the truth, but it was so hard to be nice to him.

He had shown her nothing but kindness while she was here. Leaving her in peace, and ensuring all her needs were taken care of, a kindness she knew she couldn't take for granted.

She knew she would have to put her stubbornness aside in order to get to the truth. To let her guard down, and accept that perhaps Draco wasn't the person she thought he was, and that she hadn't really known him.

He had made it up onto the second stair, and Hermione couldn't stand to watch any more. It was a serious accident waiting to happen.

She walked over hesitantly, and stood beside him. He didn't look up, but she could see his face, and the pain he was feeling.

She scooped his arm around her shoulder, and she heard him swallow deeply as his hand grazed her breast. She ignored it, and simply took as much of his weight as she could in order for him to hop up the stairs with some ease.

It took a good ten minutes, but they eventually made it to his bed, without speaking the whole time.

Hermione had never entered his room before, and noticed it was similar to hers, all except the large bed in the middle. Hers was only a single bed, and she realised that her room must have been the room Draco stayed in when his family came to holiday here.

"How often does your family visit this place?" She asked, noting the light layer of dust on the side table. All her previous anger was forgotten, and replaced with curiosity.

Draco shifted in bed, as Hermione glanced around the room. The walls were a dull black, a depressing colour. There was an expensive looking wardrobe in the corner, and a few interesting heirlooms placed around in a decorative fashion, but it still didn't make it look homely.

"We've only stayed once," Draco answered grudgingly, "When I was younger. Since then, my father only stayed here when he was doing business nearby."

"Why did you come here now, then?" She asked.

He looked out the window, at the darkening sky.

"I thought you might be here," he replied, still sounding hesitant about her questions. "But this wasn't the first place we looked."

Hermione turned to him with a frown. "How did you know your mother had helped me?"

He was silent for a moment, and she wondered if she had questioned him too much, given his current mood.

"I went back to the manor the night Blaise said you'd been killed." He replied.

She could see in his eyes that he was replaying the memory. "I walked in on my father arguing with my mother, he thought she was lying about what happened to you. I asked to see you, my mother said your body had been disposed of. It was only when the Aurors asked to question my father alone, did she tell me that you were safe, and you'd escaped with her help. I didn't stay much longer to ask questions, because I knew as soon as the Aurors left, my father would stop me from leaving. So I left to find you."

Hermione nodded, trying not to think of that horrible experience.

They fell silent, and Draco rolled over turning his back on her.

She walked slowly to the place beside his bed, knowing he could feel her close.

"I'm sorry," She said softly. It was the hardest thing to say to him, but she felt a rush of relief as she did. "I won't torture you any more. You've paid for your past, and I wont keep punishing you, for as long as you show me kindness, I'll do the same."

She swallowed thickly, "I just need one thing from you."

He turned slightly, looking at her from over his shoulder in silent questioning.

She hesitated, not because she was unsure that he would meet her request, but because she knew this was the moment when she would have to let everything go. All of the hate, anger, and resentment.

"Say you're sorry for the past few years, and I'll forget it." She knew she was asking a lot of herself, but she also knew that she was tired of feeling so much hate in his presence. Tired of feeling on guard. She knew he was different, and that he was sorry, but she needed to hear it.

He stared at her for a moment, as though he expected her to take back her offer. But after a moment, he sat up with great difficulty due to his injury.

He looked at her, his silver eyes burning into hers.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice quiet, but the words were loud and clear. He looked down at his hands. "I've been sorry for a long time."

She nodded, knowing it was the truth.

"Thank you," She said with a relieved sigh, feeling as though a weight had been lifted. "Now, at the least, we can part on amicable terms when this is all over."

She didn't see the expression that crossed Draco's face at her words.

After a moment in the silence, she stood.

"I'll let you rest." She said, moving toward the door. "Goodnight."

As she left the room, she let out a relieved sigh, and some of the tension that had been plaguing her for a long time left with it. Now, the promise of spending a day with Draco didn't seem like such torture, because they had made their peace.

It was almost funny to think that she had gotten a genuine apology off him. Never had she ever imagined him to be the type apologise to her. They had so much stopping them from getting along in the past, and now all of that seemed to have been forgotten, for now anyway.

She slid into her bed, and lay awake listening to the gentle snores from the room over, until she fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Blaise was not normally a morning person, and today was no exception. As he sat in the kitchens, sipping on his coffee he barely had an urge to get out of bed this morning.<p>

They had visited Malfoy Manor last night, in an attempt to find answers, and maybe Hermione's memories. They had gone with a plan to apparate straight into the kitchens, with the help of Loccy, but the found themselves pushed back, and landing just short of the beginning path toward the large gates on the exterior of the land.

They had tried to scale the fence, but again, a spell had been placed on it so they could simply not reach the top.

Malfoy Manor had become impenetrable.

He sighed, as he sat his mug down. Loccy placed a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him, and he scooped a large portion into his mouth.

He heard steps on the stairs some moments later, and the seat beside him slid out as Potter sat down.

"I'm bloody starving," The boy said, as he had a plate of eggs handed to him. He thanked the house elf with a nod.

Blaise merely mumbled in agreement.

They sat silently for a moment, before Potter spoke.

"Bit of a bust last night," he commented, taking a large bite of toast. "Though, it didn't really surprise me that they would lock down Malfoy Manor like that."

Blaise nodded as he chewed his food, but didn't speak. Potter continued talking.

"I was thinking though, maybe we could confront Lucius at the Ministry?"

Blaise sighed, "I don't want to confront Lucius, I just want to get those damn memories so this can all be over with."

Potter eyed him with interest, "I know. But what rush are we in? We don't even know where Draco and Hermione are."

"And what good would confronting Lucius do?" Blaise shot back.

Potter shrugged. "I guess we could ask him about the memories, we could spell an object to act as a tracking device, and follow him from that. No doubt he would head straight to where he hides the memories to check they are still there."

Blaise took a bite of egg, and chewed it, thinking about Potters suggestion.

After a moment, he shook his head. "No, we cant risk letting him know that we know about the memories. If something goes wrong, and we cant follow him, he could hide them somewhere more secret, or worse, destroy them."

Potter tilted his head to the side. "This is all on the assumption that there are memories."

Blaise knew he still didn't quite believe Pansy's information was true. But what else did they have.

"I've been thinking," Blaise said after a moment. "I think it's time to go and report Hermione as missing."

Potter turned to him with wide eyes. "I thought you wanted to keep it between us? We could get in a lot of shit for what we did at Malfoy Manor!"

Blaise sighed. "This is bigger then us, Harry. This is Hermione's life. It's obvious we don't have the skills, or the resources to find her."

"I know that," Potter replied, his tone low and serious, "but who can we trust in the Ministry that isn't working for Lucius?"

Blaise pushed his plate aside. "Anyone who is working for Lucius is already looking for her. It's about time we had someone else on her side."

Potter merely stared at him as he stood. "If they do find her it might be too late to get her memories back. The first thing Lucius will do is destroy them."

Blaise didn't say anything as he stood and left the room, leaving Potter to stare bewildered behind him.

Blaise couldn't help but wonder who they were helping here? They had continued to pursue Hermione even after she had lost her memories, and all knowledge of them. She had wanted to get on with her life, but they hadn't let her. They had kept hounding her, in the hope that she would remember, knowing that Lucius was watching their every move.

It was their fault that he had targeted her again, all because Draco, and even Blaise, couldn't let go of her. They had both come to care about her, and the thought of her not being there was just wrong. So wrong, that it had let them pursue hope that they shouldn't have held.

Hope that maybe they would be allowed to be happy. Mostly hope that Draco's life was his, not under the control of Lucius. All because of these memories, which would continue to cause damage even if they were found.

Blaise didn't know what to do. He was torn between giving up and doing what was best for them all, or fighting, and possibly putting them all in danger.

He only knew he needed advice from someone who would tell him the truth, no matter what.

* * *

><p>Hermione had awoken early that morning, with a surprising spring in her step. She had heard faint snores from Draco's room, so had left him, and headed downstairs toward the kitchen. The fridge was looking rather bare, but she had found enough supplies to whip up a large plate of pancakes.<p>

She was currently pouring orange juice in to two glasses for her and Draco.

It was funny how she was willing to be kind to him now, though she supposed she owed him the favour of cooking him breakfast. Besides, he was injured, he couldn't just starve to death.

She sat both the glasses on the edge of the table, but cursed when one of them slipped off and hit the rug below with a smash. She sighed, as she pulled her wand out and began cleaning the mess.

Her feet creaked on the wood below her, and she wondered if the floor were that unsteady. It was an old building, she supposed.

She rolled up the rug, expecting to see some withered floor boards beneath, but instead she saw a small square hatch in the floor.

She stood idly for a moment, wondering if she should see what was down there. She didn't want Draco to get upset at her, or to ruin their new found truce by snooping. However, curiosity got the better of her, and she grabbed the latch, pulling the door up with a creak.

It was too dark to see down, so she lit the end of her wand with Lumos, and held it above the opening. She noted a set of wooden stairs that headed down toward what she assumed was a basement.

Part of her was worried about venturing into an unknown area, but another part of her urged her to go on.

She stepped on the first part of the stair, and jumped slightly as it creaked under her feet. She sighed, before walking down into the darkness quickly.

When she reached the bottom, she was hit with a cold, damp feeling in the air.

She held her wand up toward the wall and noted they were made from rough stone. The floor was piled up with a number of trunks and boxes, which she noticed were filled with what looked like old heirlooms. She turned around and found that the other wall had a small shelf occupying it, but it was what sat upon the shelf that interested her the most.

She walked over and held up her wand in order to read them better. There were a number of potions that she recognised from her time spent in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. They were all medicinal potions.

She scanned the small vials, until she came across a large bottle. There was a picture of a bone on it. It was a potion commonly used for healing bone injuries.

"Brilliant!" She exclaimed, grabbing the potion off the shelf, and stuffing it in her pocket.

She turned to search the third and final area of the basement, just as she heard her name being called from above. It was Malfoy.

She ran up the stairs and closed the small basement door behind her, rolling the rug back over the entrance. She was breathing heavily by the time she reached the top of the stairs.

Draco was leaning back against the wall, directly beside his bedroom door. He looked like he was in unbearable pain, and Hermione felt the panic rise in her when she saw him.

"What's wrong?" She asked quickly, her voice an octave higher then normal.

He looked up at her, his brows furrowed and his pale forehead covered with a light sheen of sweat.

"I think-," he hissed in pain, "I think my foots gotten worse."

Hermione looked down at his barefoot, only now realising it was incredibly swollen, and looking more on the black side.

"Oh, Merlin," she hissed to herself. This was not good.

"My first reaction involved a lot more curse words," he commented wryly.

Hermione couldn't really see the humour in the situation, and merely stared at him, her eyes wide with panic. Suddenly she remembered what she had conveniently found only minutes before.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the bottle. Draco recognised it immediately, as he normally would after years of playing Quidditch, and spending many nights in the hospital wing for various injuries.

He looked confused.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, his voice slurring slightly from pain. "There's no wizarding shops 'round here."

Hermione kneeled beside him, handing him the bottle. He didn't take a swig, and she realised that he was waiting for her reply. She was hesitant.

"I found it," she said vaguely, "it was just lying around the place."

He stared at her, not in an accusing fashion, but almost as though he were waiting for the truth.

Hermione looked down at her hands, twiddling her thumbs.

"Granger." He prompted, though his voice wasn't harsh.

She looked up at him. He looked at her. She wasn't so much worried about telling him where she found it, just more of his reaction at her being nosey, as he would have put it.

"I found it in the basement," she admitted after a moment. She held her breath waiting for his beration, but it never came. Instead he stared at her with a look of confusion.

"Basement?" he asked. "I didn't even know there was a- bloody hell!"

He hissed loudly as another round of pain ebbed through his foot.

"Drink!" Hermione ordered.

He moved the bottle to his mouth with pale shaking hand and took a swig, making a face of disgust as he swallowed the potion down.

"That stuff never gets better," he said after a moment.

"Well, regardless of how it tastes, it's going to heal your foot." Hermione told him.

She suddenly felt bad for not doing more for him when he injured himself. First off, she could have prevented it, then she left him to suffer, only casting a mild charm on him to help him sleep. She should have insisted he go to the hospital, even to heal it the muggle way.

"I suppose," he said, looking thoughtful, "but now I won't get the pleasure of having you at my every beck and call."

He smirked, and Hermione found herself reddening involuntarily. She cleared her throat, to break the tension.

"Well, I certainly wont miss being stuck inside, keeping an eye out in case you fall down the stairs." She was completely serious, but he chuckled in response. It was a strange noise. Husky, with sharp undertones. Strangely nice.

She stood quickly.

"I made you breakfast," she told him, he nodded, looking slightly confused at her sudden distance. "Since, you're obviously incapacitated, I guess I'll have to bring it up to you."

"I can manage to get downstairs," he said quickly, looking rather eager at the thought.

Hermione raised her brow at his declaration, "It's not the getting down part I'm worried about. You're not exactly weightless."

Draco grinned brightly. Hermione's stared in shock at seeing that expression on him. "We could always use a weightless charm."

She furrowed her brow at his suggestion. "It was you that told me to only use magic in emergencies."

He bit his lip, "This is kind of an emergency, right?"

He gave her a strange look, a look that made her resolve melt away. She sighed quietly.

"Fine," She sighed.

The weightless charm was easy enough to perform. It was magic they learnt during their first years at Hogwarts. The hardest part for Hermione was getting him down the stairs mostly without hurting him, but also without touching him in awkward places. She kept her hand steadfastly on his back.

He, on the other hand, gripped her hip like he was accustomed to each and every curve. She realised with a rush of blood to her cheeks that he was. As much as she didn't want to delve into that aspect of the past, her curiosity was indeed...curious.

They made it down to the dining table without any more fatal injuries. Draco's hand left a cool imprint on her hip after they parted, and she rubbed it until the warmth ebbed it away.

They sat down silently, and began to plate up their breakfast, which as surprisingly still warm.

"These look nice," Draco commented, scooping one of the soft pancakes onto his plate. "You've certainly got a knack for cooking. Is that something all muggle-borns are taught?"

Hermione looked up, wondering if the remark was a racist, snide stab at her upbringing, but found he was concentrating on his breakfast, a look of peace and happiness on his face. It was strange to hear him talk so casually about her upbringing, but she supposed they probably did it countless times in the past.

"I suppose not all muggle-borns," Hermione answered. "But my mother always thought that cooking was a skill that would come in handy in the future. That was before my Hogwarts letter. After that she realised I could probably do anything with magic."

"Do you think you will?" He asked.

She thought for a moment. "I don't think so. There's something more satisfying about getting your hands dirty."

Draco smirked, and Hermione realised how strange that sounded coming out of her mouth.

She tried to hold back her smile.

"So, since we've established that you like to get your hands dirty," Draco grinned, looking devilish, "which, by the way, is something you've never told me, what exactly does that involve?"

Hermione let out a small chuckle, "If you think I'm going to admit all my secrets, you're wrong."

Draco leaned back, looking smug. "I bet I know at least some of those secrets."

Hermione eyed him, she couldn't imagine that she would have ever told him anything too important. But she was curious as to what he did know.

She sat her fork down, crossing her arms on the table. "Ok, fine, which of my secrets do you know?"

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Ok," he bit his lip, "you hate flying. So much so, that you failed your first year exam for it, and you never took the class since."

Hermione raised her brow.

"That's not a secret," she told him smugly, though chuffed that he would remember such a pointless thing. "Neville knows that."

He sighed, "Alright then, your dream, though you think you could never achieve it, is to become the Minister of Magic. You told me that once, and you said you were too embarrassed to ever tell anyone. Don't know why though, it's a pretty realistic dream for you."

Hermione blushed. That was true. It had been her dream since she knew what the Minister of Magic did.

"Ok, you got that one." She admitted. He smiled smugly.

"Alright then," he continued, looking far too interested in the game. "I was your first."

She looked confused, "First what?"

"First everything," he said simply. "First arch nemesis," he grinned for a second, "uh, first person you swore at, I remember that well..." he looked as though he were remembering a funny memory. "Oh, I was the first person you ever slapped, the first person you ever hated."

Hermione was surprised that he would bring all that up. "True."

"But," he said suddenly, his voice teasing, "I was also your first crush, the first person you loved, the first person you kissed, the first person you-,"

"That's not fair because I cant remember that," Hermione told him, desperate to turn the conversation around.

"I guess this game isn't very fair then," he grinned, seemingly satisfied with her lack of denial.

They settled into silence for a while, the only sound the clatter of knives and forks as they finished off the last of the pancakes.

The sun was shining through the window, and Hermione watched as it turned Draco's hair a sparkling shade of silver. It danced on his pale skin, and Hermione stared at it with a strange interest.

He looked up and his eyes met hers, she looked at her hands swiftly. She didn't want him to mistake her curiosity for something else. She could feel his eyes on her still.

"I might go read outside," Hermione decided, standing from her seat at the table, and still not meeting his probing eyes.

"Sounds good," Draco replied jovially, beginning to stand. Hermione realised suddenly that he had taken her excuse to leave the awkwardness, as an invitation to come with her.

"I meant...alone," She said quietly, finally meeting his eyes.

"I know," He replied, "I was going to rest by the fireplace."

Hermione suddenly felt stupid for assuming that he would want to go with her. They felt awkward enough in each others presence as it was.

It was frustrating. There was so many questions she wanted to ask him, so much she couldn't stand not knowing, but she didn't feel comfortable enough to sit down and talk about it.

She watched as he limped over toward the fireplace, making sure he didn't fall. His walking was getting better again, so she assumed he would be fine by morning.

Once he was settled, she retrieved her book from upstairs, and wandered outside to her tree, leaning her back against the rough bark.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and let the sun warm her face.

Despite the company, and the situation, she wasn't feeling all that afraid any more. Sure, there was a powerful wizard out to get her, but once that factor was removed, she could almost imagine that she'd simply gone on a relaxing holiday.

Granted, Draco would normally be the last person she would want to be with, but he was quickly becoming more and more of a comfort to her. His face had normally brought her such panic and fear. Now the crease of anger was gone from his brow, and his icey grey eyes weren't so cold any more.

She hoped she wasn't becoming emotionally attached to him because of the kindness he had shown her when no one else had, or perhaps she was just feeling emotional and missed having someone around? Normally, she would be with family, or her and Neville would meet at Diagon Alley and spend the day hiding from his grandmother.

She smiled at the memories, and wondered if it would ever go back to that.

Would she ever manage to be safe again? Would she ever remember her lost memories? Would she ever get over the things she had done and had done to her?

Every hope seemed far away, and as much as it worried her, all her hopes were stacked on a blond boy in the nearby cabin, who didn't seem like he knew what to do much more than she did.

She sighed, and opened her book to the marked page. She could worry about that later, for now she wanted to lose herself in someone else's life.

* * *

><p>Blaise was second guessing himself as he walked down the dirt path toward the crooked house ahead of him. Maybe it was a bad idea to come here, after everything that had happened, but in all honesty, he didn't knew where else to go.<p>

Everyone else had a motive, he needed an honest opinion, from someone he could trust with his life. From someone who innately good, even if it hurt them. There was only one person he could think of.

He walked up the front steps,and knocked. Before noticing a wooden sign, which he read with a furrowed brow.

"_Keep off the dirigible plums."_

He saw the orange fruit floating and swaying from side to side. He reached his hand out and plucked one.

The whole tree shook with the unexpected force, and immediately all of the fruit began to fall off the stems. The door opened just in time to see all the fruit floating up into the sky, leaving nothing but an empty vine.

"Ahhh," A small, gentle voice began, "my father wont be happy. He's tended that fruit for months. Just a day before harvest, too."

Blaises head shot from the sky, down to the door. He saw Luna standing in the door jamb, staring at the sky with wonder.

"Luna, I'm-," he found himself losing the ability to speak, "I'm sorry. I just-I didn't mean to do that."

She turned to him and smiled, her big blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's alright. I never liked the taste. However, my father was quite fond of the plum wine he makes from them, so I can't speak for him."

Blaise swallowed thickly. He had never met Luna's father, but he was sure he wouldn't like to now.

"I'll pay for them, I promise," He swore. She simply smiled.

"I didn't expect a visit from you," She said, and he could see behind her eyes she was still thinking of the incident with Ginny.

Blaise gave her a small smile, hoping to make her feel better. "I did mean to visit sooner, but, well, some stuff came up. Stuff I sort of got tied up in."

Luna merely nodded in understanding, never one to pry. It was something Blaise had always liked about her.

"That's actually why I'm here," he said after a moment, "I need some advice off someone who won't try to convince me to do something for the wrong reasons."

Luna nodded, "Come in then. I'm sure since I have no idea what you're talking about, I'll give the best advice."

Blaise chuckled, and wandered inside, ready to spill the whole story to the person who should have always been a part of it.

* * *

><p>Hermione finally closed her book, when it was too dark to see the pages any more, and too cold to stay outside any longer. She stood and stretched, before walking back toward the house. As she stepped through the door she was hit by a strong smell that made her cringe.<p>

She walked over to the couch to find Draco lounging in front of the lit fire, with a glass of something gross in his hands. She made a face of disgust just as he looked up at her.

"What is that?" She asked, eyeing the glass.

He looked down at it, before looking up at her.

"It's fire whisky," He replied, looking slightly confused as to her reaction.

"It smells like...like..." she couldn't find a comparison worthy enough, "it just smells."

Draco raised a brow, looking amused. "It's single malt, Hermione. Ridiculously expensive, and I may as well have some since it's not me paying for it."

"It still smells," she replied. That was all that mattered.

"Come sit down," he said patting the seat beside him.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you drunk?"

His eyes were glazed, and he was a lot more bubbly than usual, so that was a definite yes.

"No," he replied, trying to pull an honest face.

Hermione sighed before seating herself beside him, despite the strong smell of fire whisky that was in the air.

"Why would you get drunk?" She asked, trying to act pompous, although it was hard to revert back to that when in all honesty she wished she could let go for a night.

Draco shrugged, sipping the last shot of fire whisky from his glass and placing it down. "Why not? Everything around us is going to shit, so why pretend like we can do anything to stop it?"

Hermione stared at him for a moment. "Is that what you really think? That nothing will be ok?"

She hoped it was just drunk rambling, and not his honest feelings, because if Draco had no hope for being safe, then why should she?

"Well, this is good." he sighed, leaning back and watching her under hooded eyes.

"Being drunk? It wont be fun in the morning." She warned.

He smirked, and she found herself looking at him with an odd expression again. He never did answer her question.

"Granger, do you remember the day we first met?" he asked, looking at her.

She tilted her head, wondering if 'met' was the right word to use. "Yes."

"I was a git," he said. It was a statement that made Hermione turn to him with a curious expression.

"Yes, you were." She replied. Where was this going?

"But I'm not now," he said, his head back, staring at the ceiling. "because I've decided that you, Granger, are one of the few people I want to be civil to."

Hermione eyed him queerly. He was rambling, but maybe here was some truth in it.

"Why is that?" She asked after a moment.

He sat up suddenly, and she wondered how he had moved so quickly. He leant on the couch until he was facing her straight on. Hermione shifted awkwardly in her seat.

"You possess everything that I never knew I wanted in a girl. I never even had time for girls, apart from the occasional snog in the broom closet, but they were never anything more than a passing fancy."

Hermione raised her brow at his confession, wondering why it bothered her to hear that.

"My focus, my real interest and hobby you could say, had been torturing you. I would have gladly passed up 100 girls just to see that look of anger on your face. That look that sent me wild with a feeling I never even had a name for." He paused and smirked. "Later on, when I got older, I found out what it was."

Hermione understood his implication, and couldn't help but blush at the image of Draco pleasuring himself to the thought of her.

"I thought it would pass." he continued, his expression looked as though he were losing himself in the memory. "Kind of like some twisted fantasy I had. I was a git. I took pleasure in making people despise me, or fear me. It amused me to see it. But when I got older I lost interest in others and I found myself drawn in by you. I thought it was because I was so much better than you. But you soon showed me on that front. You beat me in everything school related. All I had over you was my name. And pretty soon I found myself hating the thought of you, but at the same time the thought of you made my blood run hot." He turned to look at her. "See, I'm a pervert."

She stared at him, as his mouth contorted into a smirk. He continued.

"That's when bloody whiny Zabini started hounding me. I guess I had been pushing it for too long. I would go out of my way to make sure I ran into you in the hallways. When I didn't see you, I couldn't sleep. I became even more of a git."

He sighed, and Hermione wondered if it was a sign of regret.

"It was hard to move past- the prejudice, I mean." He said softly, staring into the fireplace.

His hair was grazing his eyelids, and he pushed it away with his hand.

"I don't see why," she said, wondering how he could make out as though her blood was something bad, like he was justified in ever using it against her.

He lulled his head back on the couch, and turned it slightly so he was looking at her.

After he didn't say anything, she began fidgeting in her seat.

"What?" She snapped.

"I was just wondering when you're going to take your own advice."

Hermione sputtered with indignation. "It's hardly the same thing."

"I know, but if it helps my cause, I'm gonna stick with it," he smirked.

Hermione shook her head. He was unbelievable.

"So this 'cause' you talk about, what exactly does it involve?" She asked.

He took another sip of his fire whisky, and narrowed his eyes in thought.

"To make us both safe, from my father, and each other," he said.

She raised a brow.

"How is hiding away making us safe?" While she knew there was no other option, it was aggravating that Lucius had all the power.

Draco motioned between them. "We're not dead, so I'm going to assume that I'm succeeding."

She let out an amused snort. "I suppose you're right."

"I have to admit though," he said, his glazed eyes looking into hers, "I haven't exactly minded this arrangement."

She understood his implication, and felt her face growing hot. "Fair enough."

He lifted the glass toward her. "Sure you don't want some?"

She moved her face away from the glass, ensuring she didn't smell the sharp aroma. "I'm very sure. You better hope there's a potion in the basement that will help with your hangover in the morning."

Draco's face was starting to look rather pale already.

"Or perhaps it wont wait until the morning." She sighed. She stood and moved toward the basement entrance, lighting the end of her wand to provide her with some sight in the darkness.

She opened the door in the floor, and made her way down the stairs to the basement. The Lumos spell provided limited light, and it was freezing down there so she began searching quickly for something that would at least get rid of Draco's nausea.

While searching the vials on the shelf, she wondered why she even cared. It was self inflicted, and he had been quite happy to ignore the consequences, but at the same time, she felt like they only had each other to rely on, and that scared her more than the prospect of being covered in Draco's vomit.

She sighed. There was nothing in sight that would help him.

She moved toward the furthest wall, but noticed that the vials on the shelves there were empty. She moved her wand down toward the floor, before noticing a small crawl space in the corner of the room. She moved toward it hesitantly.

To gain access, she would have to crawl on her hands and knees, and she realised suddenly that the entrance was probably only ever used by house elves.

She got down on all fours and began to crawl, holding her wand up ahead of her.

She could see the faint glint of vials shining on shelves, and knew it was most likely where Lucius would have kept his most valuable potions. She crawled though the small entrance, which opened up into a small room.

The room surprised Hermione. Unlike the one before it, whose walls were stone, dripping with water and probably mould, this room had been cared for. The walls were clean and dry, along with the floor. There were several paintings in expensive looking frames that adorned the walls of the small room, and Hermione noticed what looked like a small sink in the corner of the room, but looking closer, she realised it was a pensieve, though it wasn't the same one Draco had.

Even the small differences between the first and second room were noticeable. The vials in this room were crystal, and seemed to be placed in some order, with small tags hanging off the lid of each. The shelves they sat on looked like silver, and Hermione could only assume it was real.

She looked around the room in awe. There must be some rare potions in here. And most likely something that could fix Draco, unless he had already passed out in his own vomit. She shuddered at the thought.

She moved toward the first shelf, and grabbed down a vial. She expected the potion name to be written in Latin, just to top off the look of the place, but instead she stood, staring at the vial in confusion. She placed it down slowly, and wondered if she should go back upstairs.

Instead she picked up the next vial, reading the tag attached. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she could feel her hands shaking. She placed the vial down.

She picked up another vial, reading the tag.

_Annie Goldstein_

She placed it down, picking up another.

_James Morfield_

Another.

_Louis Lowenfold_

Another.

_Deliliah Humberg_

_Susan Bluthe_

_Ricardo Humberg_

And as though it called out to her, as though she knew, she picked up another, and felt the bile rise in her throat as she read the tag.

_Hermione Granger._

Her hands shook as she gripped the delicate vial with dear life. She wasn't positive what was in there but she had a fair idea. She could feel her emotions seeping to the surface, and she choked on a sob. She was crying, not only for herself, but for all the people whose precious memories were sitting in a vial, in some mouldy basement.

"Who is that?" A low, grumbling voice echoed suddenly within the room. She jumped, nearly dropping the vial, and turning toward the sound. It was one of the portraits on the wall. An older man, who was posing in an ornate chair holding a pipe.

She ceased her Lumos charm, and fled from the room, feeling her way toward the small door in the wall, all the while the old man in the portrait muttered and cursed.

She raced up the stairs again, her breathing heavy from the panic and shock of her discovery, and from trying to hold back her emotions. She shut the hatch quickly and stood for a moment, staring down at the ornate bottle in her hand.

It made her angry. He had taken something from her. Something that was priceless, that couldn't be replaced, and he'd put it in a bottle. A tiny, worthless bottle.

She looked up, suddenly remembering Draco. He was sitting motionless on the lounge, deep breath's coming from his chest. He was asleep, and she was glad he couldn't see her this upset.

She stood for a moment, getting her thoughts back together. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself enough in order to think rationally.

The first thought was clear: in this small glass vial, she was sure her stolen memories were stored.

And she didn't yet know how to put them back inside her head. The spell that had removed them was advanced magic, and putting them back was even more difficult. They were spells they didn't show you for a reason. It could ruin lives.

She looked around the room and her eyes stopped on something glinting in the corner.

Of course!

She grabbed the pensieve and almost buckled under it's weight as she began up the stairs to her room. She wobbled through the door, and sat it down on the bed. She let out a deep breath of exertion, and closed the door behind her.

She sat behind the silver bowl, and removed the vial from her pocket. She stared at it nervously, watching the silver wisps float around inside. Knowing they contained everything she wanted to know, but was also hesitant about knowing.

She poured the vial into the pensive, and took a deep breath before lowering her head.

The silver wisps in front of her turned and twirled and eventually it formed a face. Then another face. She watched from a distance the interactions between her and Draco. It felt like hours within the pensieve, but in reality it was only minutes.

She watched as they changed. Her face, once cold and stoney toward him, began to warm up in his presence. She watched as Blaise and her own friendship blossomed. And how everything Blaise told her in Draco's defence turned out to be true. The things he endured, and was still enduring because he wanted to be with her.

She found herself blushing as she watched Draco and herself in the library, which resulted in a long kiss against the shelves. She watched as the dread she felt in his presence turned to excitement, and she watched as she eventually stopped fighting it.

It was odd to see Draco in this light. He was so relaxed and happy. However watching the memories wasn't the same as experiencing them. The feelings and emotions weren't able to be felt, only seen. It was like watching a movie. A display of event's, but not the same as experiencing it yourself.

Eventually the pensieve came to the part she had been most curious about but also dreading. The moment she'd given herself to him completely. She watched as he touched her intimately, and began to run his hand up her skirt-

There was a loud crash that infiltrated the memory, and it faded away. She lifted her head out of the pensieve and sat still. There was another bang, and yelling. She sat up quickly, grabbing her wand and racing to the door, only to stop quickly.

She turned around and grabbed the vial, and waved her wand. Her hands shook as the liquid floated back inside, and she placed the stopper in the top.

She turned back towards the door and raced down the stairs. As she reached the bottom step, she skidded to a halt.

She was faced with a blond head of hair, wearing a smirk, but it wasn't the one she was hoping to see.

Lucius Malfoy stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by his cronies, dressed in their usual Death Eater get-up.

Hermione scanned the room until she found Draco. He was kneeling on his knees, with one of the men standing behind him, keeping him still by grabbing a bunch of his hair. His hands were clearly bound behind his back. And much to Hermione's dismay, he was still very drunk.

"This is just too easy," Lucius chuckled, noting Draco's condition. "He's even a failure to his mud-blood."

Draco struggled against his bindings, his expression growing deathly.

"I'll kill you!" Draco shouted, only to have his head roughly pulled back by the Death Eater who had him gripped.

Lucius simply shook his head in disgust and turned to Hermione, before his eyes fell on the item in her hand. Before she could hide it, he flicked his wand and ripped it from her tight grip into his hands.

"I have eyes everywhere, filthy mudblood." Lucius seethed, scowling at the bottle. "You think you can steal from me and get away with it?"

Hermione suddenly remembered the portrait in the basement. It was guarding his trophies. She wanted to kick herself for being so stupid.

"They're mine," she shot back, trying to sound strong. "You stole them from me first."

Lucius simply looked at her. "Well, they will be nobody's now."

He opened his grip on the vial, and as if in slow motion, it fell from his hand. Hermione raced forward just in time to watch it smash into pieces on the floor. The silver wisps floated into the air, until eventually there was nothing.

"Crying wont bring back your pathetic little memories, you piece of filth." Lucius snarled.

It was only then that Hermione realised in all of her anger, that her face was wet with tears. She wiped them away quickly. She could feel her whole body shaking with an indescribable feeling of loathing, the tips of her fingers were crackling with pent up magic, and her heart was beating rapidly.

She did something that surprised even her. She smirked.

"Do you really thing destroying a few memories will stop the inevitable?" She asked Lucius, who looked shocked at her strong response.

"I'll destroy more than that." He threatened. Hermione let out a short laugh. Lucius was really just a vicious little boy deep down, like Draco had been, except Draco grew up.

She shook her head, "You can destroy the whole wizarding world and everyone in it, but you'll never be able to control him." She nodded toward Draco who was looking more alert now. He was staring at the broken vial on the floor, a million thoughts crossing through his eyes. "That's what this is all about. You want to break his spirit, make him into your clone. A heartless, evil monster. But even if you take me away from him, he'll never be that person. He's not like you, and you just need to accept that."

Lucius stared at her, his eyes full of hate and threat. But he didn't deny her claims, and Hermione knew deep down that it was all about control.

"A Malfoy never gives up." Lucius replied, ignoring her accusations. "I will never accept a disobedient, emotional _fool_ for a son. If I have to erase every memory of you from each other, then so be it, but I will _never_ accept weakness."

The threat hit Hermione hard. "If it's not me, it will just be someone else you don't approve of!"

Lucius laughed. "Then I will destroy her life, also."

Hermione tightened her fist, feeling the crackling bursts happening all over her body. It had been quite sometime since she'd used proper magic to her full potential and she could feel it all coming to the surface in her anger, like an overflowing well.

"If he doesn't remember you, you'll have nothing." Lucius snarled. He strolled over to where Draco kneeled, staring at the ground as though he'd given up.

"You cant erase me from his whole life!" Hermione cried, feeling more scared of that possibility then anything else. "He has people, friends, who will tell him about me!"

Lucius turned his head to look at her, a cold calculating expression on his face. "Not if he doesn't remember them either."

Hermione's voice caught in her throat, as Lucius raised his wand to Draco's temple. The blond boy looked up at her, his eyes full of fear, and what worried her most, acceptance.

She wouldn't have it. Lucius opened his mouth to speak the words that would effectively erase Draco forever.

"NO!" She cried so loudly that it shocked even her. The cry echoed through the small cabin, and in that moment, she found that the small crackles of magic turned into a tidal wave of emotion ebbing from her body.

Her eyes were closed tight, but she could hear the sound of loud crashes and breaking glass around her, as though she were stuck in the middle of a tornado. As though she _were_ the tornado. Her body was shaking uncontrollably as explosion after explosion of power poured out of her skin.

After a few seconds, the bangs and crashes ebbed away to silence, and the last crackle of magic left her. She opened her eyes slowly, and gasped at what she saw in front of her.

The room was effectively destroyed. The windows were shattered, the furniture was strewn around the room, and the table was broken into pieces, along with numerous plates and what had been expensive looking vases and heirlooms, crushed on the floor.

Lucius Malfoy was unconscious against the opposite wall, his porcelain skin covered in cuts. The other Death Eaters had been thrown around in a similar fashion. One was laying against the remains of the kitchen table, his leg was twisted in an unhealthy direction. Another was hanging out one of the shattered windows.

Hermione searched the room until she found who she was looking for.

Draco was curled up beside the lounge, he had a few cuts on his face, but was still concious. He was staring at her as though he'd never seen her before. The binding spell on his wrists had been broken, and his arms were free again.

She knew their time was limited before the Death Eaters started regaining conciousness. She checked that her wand was still in her back pocket, before grabbing Draco around the waist and lifting her with all her might.

He stood unsteadily.

"How's your foot?" She asked quickly, "Can you run?"

Draco looked around the room. His eyes settled on his father, and he scowled. "I can run."

They gripped each other's hands without thinking and they raced out what was left of the front door. It was dark outside, but Hermione didn't light her wand for fear of being followed. They felt their way through the chaos of trees and branches, getting covered in scratches and cuts as they went, but they never stopped. The adrenaline kept them going, and the hope that they could escape was enough to work through the exhaustion.

After twenty minutes of sprinting through the trees, they came to the edge, where the landscape sprawled out into bare fields.

They looked at each other, both thinking the same thing. There would be nowhere to hide.

"We can make it," Hermione told him, feeling hopeful that they'd come this far. They were covered in cuts and bruises, but they were still alive. She looked across the vast landscape, trying to figure out where the closest village would be. They needed to get to somewhere they could at least hide when daylight hit in a few hours.

"Where is the closest town?" Hermione asked, figuring he would know better that she would. She turned to him, and found him staring into the trees intently.

"Draco?"

He held up his hand, silencing her.

"I think I see someone," he whispered, still scanning through the trees.

She turned quickly, glancing through the darkness of the tree trunks, and sure enough, there were small blue lights floating about. Wands lit up.

"Run," Draco told her. They turned and took off into the night.

They didn't stop running for another half an hour, before pure exhaustion took over them. They took shelter next to a stone wall that split one field from the other. It was still dark around, and they sat in silence, their heavy breaths the only thing filling the air.

They didn't say anything, but Hermione felt a warm hand on hers. She didn't move it away, and instead embraced the feeling of having someone on her side. Someone she never thought would be.

"What happened back there?" He whispered. "I've never seen anything like that before."

She shrugged, though she too was curious. "I don't know. I was always prone to accidental magical outbursts when I was younger, but never at Hogwarts. I guess I just had a build up, and kind of exploded when your father tried to hurt you."

She saw him open his mouth, and she knew he was going to ask why she cared, but he closed it again. Instead they sat in silence.

Hermione felt herself drifting off some moments later, and it wasn't long after that her head lulled onto Draco's shoulder and she was able to forget for a moment what was happening an where they were.

* * *

><p>She was woken abruptly by Draco nudging her.<p>

"Wake up," he whispered, his voice full of concern. She sat up, and blinked a few times, gaining her bearings. Oh right, they were running from murderous, angry Death Eaters.

"There's someone flying above us on a broom," Draco hissed, looking to the sky. Hermione looked up, and sure enough, in the darkness she could make out the figure of someone on a broom, scanning the ground. They were lucky that they hadn't been spotted. But any second the sun would be rising.

"We should never have stopped," Hermione hissed, angry at herself for her physical weakness. It had allowed the Death Eaters to gain on them.

"You would have collapsed from exhaustion," Draco said plainly, "we both would have."

She knew he was right.

They watched the broom fly back and forth, come dangerously close, and fly far away, obviously searching for their whereabouts.

Eventually, the Death Eater flew back towards where they had come from, probably reporting back to the others.

"Do you think he saw us?" Hermione asked in a quiet whisper.

"I think we would be dead if he did," Draco answered honestly. "But we should make a break for it while we've got a chance. We might be able to find some shelter before they catch up."

They stood and began running again. Hermione's legs ached beneath her, and on every step she thought she would collapse under her own weight, but watching Draco push through his own pain, helped her keep going.

They stopped running when they saw a cluster of trees ahead. They leaned over, catching their breath.

"We should...head over there," Draco said in between gasps, "There could be a town on the other side...or if not, we can hide in the tree...'til it gets dark again."

The sun was rising, leaving the landscape around them with a light blue tinge. They were visible now.

They began walking toward the tree's, both unable to run any longer. Hermione was trying to push through the physical pain, and she could see Draco was suffering just as much.

"If we do make it to a town, what then?" She asked Draco. Even if they did escape, what was to stop Lucius from coming after the both of them, not to mention the people she loved.

"I know someone who can help us," Draco replied. "He's an old acquaintance from school."

"A Slytherin?" Hermione asked, not confident in Draco's plan.

"Yes," Draco replied. "He works for the Ministry, in the Department of Magical Accidents & Catastrophes. He's a genius. Always has been. He's the only person who knew where I was, besides Nott. That's who helped Nott get an internship into the Ministry."

Hermione was confused, how was this so called genius supposed to help them?

"The job of that department is to investigate accidents, and incidents that happen, that cant be solved by the Auror office." Draco continued explaining. "The cases that remain unsolved. Like the multiple attacks carried out by Death Eaters."

Hermione turned to him as they walked along. "Would the attack on myself be in there?"

Draco nodded.

"My father donates a large number of Galleons to each Department, in order to stay on every bodies good side," Draco sneered. "However, he personally visited the Department of Magical Accidents and donated a higher percentage than anywhere else, in exchange for them to close the cases that would cause 'tension in the magical world'."

Hermione furrowed her brow, "He was trying to bribe them? Did they take it?"

"They took it. But they used it all on investigating those cases specifically. My father has stopped all form of donation to that department, from anyone, and my friend isn't happy about that. He doesn't take well to being black-mailed."

"So why is he helping you?"Hermione asked, still not quite understanding.

"Because all those cases they investigated implicated my father. If my father goes to prison, I take over the fortune, and I've promised him a lot of funding if he makes sure it's a life sentence."

Hermione stopped walking and stared at him. "You would do that?"

Despite knowing Draco's feelings toward his father, she didn't think he would turn against him to that degree.

"In a heart beat," he replied. He didn't stop walking.

Hermione walked a few steps behind him, wondering if he would really go through with it. She knew he was a Slytherin, and they were good at detaching their emotion, but to want your own father to suffer for the rest of his life meant that Draco had so much hatred for the man it was unimaginable.

There was a loud rush of air above them, and they both looked up suddenly to see a figure on a broom flying above them.

"They're over here!" A voice crowed above them, circling like a hawk circles it's prey.

They didn't have time to think, and instead they both began sprinting toward the trees.

They could hear voices yelling from behind them.

"Stop them!"

Hermione focused only on her breathing, and the sound of Draco's footfalls beside her. But when they stopped, and she heard a loud grunt and a thud behind her, she skidded to a stop and turned back.

They had spelled his legs together with rope, and he was writhing around trying to get out.

She raced back to him, and fumbled quickly at the ropes.

"Keep running," he ordered. "Don't let them get you."

She shook her head quickly, trying to focus on keeping her hands still to remove the rope. It was hopeless though, every time she loosened it, it tightened more.

"Just go!" Draco yelled, trying to push her away.

"No!" She shot back. "I'm not letting them get you."

They could hear running footsteps in the distance, getting closer.

Draco sighed, as though he were angry and touched by her stubbornness.

"They'll kill you this time, Hermione." He said.

She knew it was a possibility, but it was wrong to leave him to save herself. She would either die here, or be unable to live with herself.

"How many times have you fought for me? I don't even remember them all, but I know you have. You still would, and you're still trying to. It's my turn to fight for you, and I'll make it hard on them." She grabbed her wand out, ready for their approach.

Draco stared at her in awe for a moment, before grabbing her face and pulling it against his. He kissed her with such a ferocity that Hermione almost forget where she was. His warm lips moulded perfectly with her's and she felt herself gripping his collar in order to pull him closer. Any thoughts of pushing him away left her mind, and she suddenly understood what it felt like to be close to him.

It was like she had never forgotten.

They kept their faces close, as they heard the Death Eater land nearby.

"If I don't remember you, I'm sorry," Draco told her.

The footsteps came to a stop beside them.

Hermione simply shook her head. "Don't ever be sorry."

She shot up quickly, surprised her legs would hold her weight, and in a second she had her whipped her wand up and pointed it directly at the nose of the Death Eater.

They stared at each other for a moment, before her wand hand faltered.

The harsh-lined face of hate and death that she thought she'd be staring at, was actually a youthful face with round spectacles and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

"You're not a death eater..." She said, dumbfounded. Potter looked at her as though she were mad.

Potter smirked. "Well, I wouldn't expect you to notice, since you were too busy eating each others faces."

She narrowed her eyes at him, feeling her face grow hot with anger. "Why didn't you say something? We thought we were going to die!"

Potter shrugged. "It was funny watching you run, I've never actually seen you run that fast, Granger."

She pulled her hand back and punched him square in the nose. He fell back in shock and she continued waling on him repeatedly as he begged her to stop.

"Hermione! What are you doing?" A familiar voice rang out. She saw a group of people walking towards her. She recognised Blaise, who was running toward the fight. Luna, who was staring dreamily. Weasley, who was laughing wildly. Nott, who was also looking amused. And several other wizards who she hadn't met, but looked as though they worked for the Ministry, if their uniform was anything to go by.

She turned back to Potter, "You. Complete. Ass!" She cried in between punches. "I'll never forgive you!"

She felt herself being dragged away from Potter, who looked dishevelled and nervous, but relatively uninjured.

She shook herself out of the grip, and turned to find herself face to face with Blaise.

"What's going on?" He asked her, though his eyes settled on Draco, who was still on the ground.

"He's a git, that's what happened." Draco responded, coldly. Blaise looked hurt, but it quickly turned to anger.

"How is Potter the git when he didn't run off for weeks, leaving all his friends to think he was dead?"

Draco glared. "I had my reason's, Zabini."

Blaise tossed his hands in the air. "Oh, well, that makes it ok, doesn't it?" He shouted sarcastically.

Hermione sighed. "He was looking for me, Blaise. If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead long ago."

Blaise turned to Hermione, as though he were going to argue, but as he saw the cuts and bruises, his eyes turned sad. He moved forward and hugged her.

"I'm glad you're alive. Knowing it for sure, is better than only hoping." He said. He held her for a moment, and Hermione watched as Draco's eyes fell to the ground.

"Ok, ok. The reunion is very heart warming, but let's get out of here and talk business." Hermione saw a dark-haired wizard approaching Draco. He held his hand out to the blond boy and Draco took it with a smirk, standing.

"Hermione, this is Marcus Romley, the wizard who's going to make us safe again."

* * *

><p>They made their way back to Blaise's home, where the house elves brought out tea and sandwiches, and they sat giving first-hand accounts to Marcus Romley, and the two other wizards who turned out to be Aurors.<p>

Blaise and Luna had visited the Ministry that day, their intention to report Hermione and Draco as missing persons. However, on their way to the Auror office, they had bumped into a familiar face: Nott.

When they explained their intentions to Nott, he had advised them against it, stating that against their best judgement, that they should trust him. However, as they were leaving a wizard who introduced himself as Marcus Romley had explained that Draco and Hermione were no longer safe, and that Lucius had somehow discovered the location and was heading there right that second.

They set off with back up, and what they came upon was a destroyed cabin full of unconscious and injured wizards. Romley already had enough evidence to lock Lucius up, and immediately arrested them, then set out searching for Draco and Hermione.

After a nice meal, Romley stood. "I'll take Miss Granger back to her home. Malfoy, I suggest you stay here until the trial at the Ministry. It won't take much time. We have enough evidence to put him away in as little as five minutes."

Malfoy nodded, but his eyes didn't leave Hermione's.

They disapparated, and landed outside her home. It was the same as she remembered.

"Will we be safe?" She asked. She didn't want a group of Death Eaters breaking in through the night.

Romley nodded. "Yes. We've got wards up. Only someone who shares blood with a Granger can cross them."

She thanked him, and he turned to walk away before stopping.

"One question," he asked, his expression curious, "What happened to that cabin?"

Hermione didn't know herself, but she knew why. "I was sick of being a victim."

He stared at her curiously, before smirking. "That's the way."

He disappeared with a crack, and Hermione walked inside to the greeting of her parents. Something she had missed so much it didn't hit her until that moment.

Blaise sat back on the couch, hot chocolate in hand. Draco sat across from his, staring at the wall above his head, a sour expression on his face. Weasley had gone back to the burrow, and Potter had retired to his bedroom for some much needed sleep.

Blaise sipped his hot drink, before sitting it on the table in front of him.

"Are you sure you don't want one?" Blaise asked, referring to the drink in front of him.

"Positive," Draco replied, his response was short and snippy.

Blaise sighed.

"I don't understand how we can go from being best mates, to you hating me," he said, feeling frustrated at Draco's behaviour. "You left without telling any of us where you were. We should be mad at you, but even I'm trying to understand that you did what you felt you had to. It kept Hermione safe, and I'm glad about that."

Draco eyed Blaise. "You'd already accepted she was dead. I wanted help from people who weren't going to question my sanity every two minutes."

Blaise scoffed, although Draco had a point. They would have tried to stop him for his own sake.

"So you trust Nott? And some guy who you knew from school years ago?" Blaise was hurt more than anything.

"Sometimes the people you can trust the most are the ones you can buy." Draco said simply.

Blaise sighed in frustration, before sitting back. He ran his hands through his hair, wondering how this short amount of time had caused so much damage.

"I don't understand why you're so pissed at me!" He snapped.

Draco shook his head, as though Blaise were an ignorant fool.

"The whole time I was a git, and quite fine with being a git, to everyone, but especially Hermione," Draco explained, "you pushed and pushed until I eventually admitted that I was attracted to her."

Blaise nodded.

"Then after that you pushed and pushed until I told her, and kept telling her until she looked at me with something other than disgust. You pushed me into something with the possibility that it could all go to shit."

"What's wrong with that?" Blaise asked, "You deserved hope, it was always possible."

Draco scoffed.

"The one moment I needed you to be on my side, you tell me to give up with no proof and no confirmation. You told me to give up on her being alive. Where was the possibility of hope then?"

Blaise opened his mouth to argue back, but closed it again. He didn't think of that, he had never thought of it. He should have been the one encouraging Draco in his crazy schemes, not stopping him.

"I should have come with you when you left. It should have been me helping you find her." Blaise said softly.

Draco stood, his anger visible. "Exactly! And instead I'm left with Nott for help. Of all people!"

Blaise sighed, before speaking. "Why does it matter now? She's ok. She's alive. And from what I saw in that field, you might still have a chance with her."

Draco looked down at his feet, and Blaise wasn't sure if it was anger or embarrassment turning his cheeks a shade of red.

"Her memories of me were right there, within reach, and now they're gone for good." Draco sighed.

"If you only had a chance with her because of one particular set of memories, then it wasn't meant to happen," Blaise told him, "but I know that what I saw was you both rekindling something you thought was lost with her memories of you."

"It still doesn't change the fact that with your help, she could have kept the memories. If you'd been there. I guess I'll have to find a way to forgive you," Draco continued.

Blaise was thankful he was at least going to try. He looked down at his intertwined fingers.

"You know the true test of friendship?" Draco asked, rhetorically. "Giving up something you truly care about."

Blaise looked up curiously. What was he getting at?

"For example," Draco began innocently, "a Platinum model Lightning Bolt."

"You slimy little-!" Blaise shot up, glaring at the blond., who looked back with a look that was just daring him to finish his sentence.

"It's a small sacrifice," Draco told him.

"You're a git," Blaise replied.

"What's more important to you monetary items, or friendship?" Draco asked. Blaise snorted in disbelief. The nerve of him.

"My mother gave me that broom," Blaise reminded him, hoping he might feel bad for his blackmail.

"I'll make sure I polish it everyday," Draco replied brightly, not budging. Blaise wanted to kick himself for falling into this trap.

"Bloody fine!" He gave in, throwing his hands up. "Have the damn broom."

"It's a small price to pay for forgiveness." Draco said, looking far too pleased with himself.

Blaise threw a cushion at his face, and grinned when it hit him square in the nose.

Two days after she returned home, Hermione was trying to adjust back into normality. It was strange how living without a large chunk of her memories had become normal for her. When she had told everyone what happened to them, they had all stared at her with pity. She'd hated it.

It wasn't as though she was missing something. How can you miss something if you cant remember?

The issue was now she had replaced those memories with new ones.

There was no more love story of opposites attracting in her head. It was a dangerous story of two people running, and who happened to have circumstances keeping them apart.

She picked up the Daily Prophet, and read over the front article again.

_Malfoy Patriarch Sentenced to Life in Azkaban_

The newspaper was buzzing with reports of the story. Other Death Eaters had been arrested over their crimes, facing similar sentences, and there had been a page with a large photo of Draco. He was leaving the Ministry, his pale skin marred by dark lines. His mother was walking behind him, her head turned to the ground. Despite their close proximity, they looked as though they barely knew each other.

The article read: _Malfoys only son takes over family fortune._

Hermione put the paper down and drank the last of her tea, before walking upstairs to her room.

It had been quite dusty when she returned, but she felt quite at ease in no time. He parents, unaware of her trauma, had left for work early this morning, leaving her home alone. She had thought of studying, but there was far too much going on to concentrate.

Instead she found herself dressing in a nice white dress that matched the weather outside. She left her hair out in waves, and pulled her small beaded bag over her shoulder. She gathered all of the Galleons she had sitting in her money box, and put them in her purse.

She arrived in Diagon Alley during peak hour. Wizards were racing around running there morning errands and heading to work, others were standing around discussing the name on everybodies lips: Malfoy.

She was glad her name had been left out of the paper, and she was able to walk the the crowds without stares, but Hermione knew the time had come for her to make decision. She made it through the sea of people, and down the dark alley to Borgin & Burkes.

The bell chimed as she entered the shop, and the old dirty looking wizard behind the counter looked up at her with a snarling expression.

"Hello," she said, nervously. He didn't reply.

She hesitantly began browsing the cabinets under his glare, until her eyes fell on one particular item and she smiled to herself.

"I'll take that."

It was late afternoon at the Zabini manor, and all four boys were playing Quidditch in the sun. Despite the events of that morning, and how quiet he'd been during the trial at the Ministry, Draco seemed to have perked up more. Blaise pinned it down to his new broom that he was racing around on.

Potter and Weasley were tossing a quaffle between them, and Blaise was hovering high above them, contemplating everything that had just happened. He was staring into the distance when a small figure popped into the horizon, just at the end of the path towards his house.

He recognised the frizzy hair immediately.

He aimed his broom downward and zoomed toward her, finally landing a few feet ahead, a curious expression on his face.

Hermione jumped as a figure landed in front of her, and her hand flew to her heart, which was already thumping with nerves. When she recognised Blaise's face, she let out a breath.

"You scared me," she said, smiling slightly, though her stomach was tight with knots.

He smiled at her. "I'm sorry, you're just an unexpected visitor."

She nodded, looking at her feet. "I know."

There were three more thuds, and she looked up quickly to see Potter, Weasley and Draco standing behind Blaise.

Her eyes focused on the grey ones as he moved forward.

His hair was messy today, it must have been from flying, as he had his broom in hand. He was dressed in his Quidditch uniform, leaving Hermione with an uncomfortably nice view of his muscles.

She swallowed thickly, as he continued to stare at her, his expression a mixture of awe, shock, and expectation.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said, looking directly at him. The other boys watched him to gauge his reaction, but he didn't say or do anything other than nod once. He turned, handed his broom to Blaise, and began walking toward the house.

Hermione stared dumbly for a second, before walking quickly after him, smiling nervously at Blaise at she went.

The three boys watched with confused expressions, as they entered the front door.

"What's wrong with him?" Potter asked, referring to Draco's odd behaviour.

Blaise stared at the closing door. "I think he's just afraid."

Weasley raised a brow. "Afraid of what?"

Blaise sighed, hoping they would both be wrong.

"That she'll leave him again."

Hermione looked around the large house in awe, before she heard Draco close he door behind them. He continued walking through different rooms, until they came into a large sitting room. It was like Hermione had never seen. Her awe was broken by him sitting loudly on the lounge, his eyes not meeting hers.

"Do you want something to drink?" He offered, in an overly polite tone.

She declined, before sitting on the lounge opposite him. They were silent for a moment.

"I saw the Daily Prophet." She began, "I'm glad you'll be able to live the life you want now."

He looked up at her, but didn't say anything.

"What will your mother do?" The Malfoy Matriarch had always seemed to be overthrown by her vicious husband, now maybe she would be able to enjoy life.

Draco sighed. "She was upset. She cried when the Wizengamot read out the verdict. Despite what a monster my father is, loving him and being loyal to him is all she's ever known. She hasn't realised it yet, but she'll be better off without him. Everyone will." There was a bitterness in his voice as he spoke.

Hermione nodded. "Will you stay with her?"

Draco shook his head. "No. Zabini has invited me to stay here. My mother will remain at the manor. Even though she helped me in the end, there's just too much I cant forgive."

"She saved my life," Hermione said, feeling bad that he would condemn a woman who was also a victim.

Draco frowned at her words. "She saved your life through her silence, and she destroyed mine in the same way." He looked toward his feet. "Maybe one day I will learn to forgive her, but not yet."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "I'm glad."

There was another moment of silence, before Draco spoke.

"I'm sorry about your memories. I didn't know they were there. I didn't even know my father had kept them," his expression turned dark as he spoke.

Hermione swallowed thickly.

"It was upsetting to find them," She admitted, "and even more upsetting to lose them straight away. But I feel like that part of my life isn't valid now. I've changed so much, they wouldn't even feel like my memories any more."

She didn't realise the effect her words were having on Draco, until he suddenly stood and walked swiftly out of the room. She sat there stunned, before standing and racing after him.

She found him in an adjacent room that looked as though it merely existed to display expensive antiques. He was leaning against the wall, his hands were shaking and Hermione walked quickly to his side.

He didn't meet her eye, no matter how many times she tried.

"I cant do this any more," he said, his voice thick, "I can't keep chasing you, and getting so close to having you, then have you pull away with some cruel words."

Hermione was shocked by how much her stomach lurched at his words.

"But I didn't mean that," she said quickly, suddenly feeling like the positions were reversed. "I only meant that what we experienced feels like the real way we got to know each other."

He looked up, his brows furrowed in silent question.

"I've spent this whole time hating you because of how you used to treat me, instead of forgiving me for how you treat me now. You never stopped fighting for me, and I still didn't see it. I would be stupid to push something like that out of my life." He stared at her as though he were hanging off her every word. "But you still have all those memories that I lost, I'm months behind, you're months ahead. We aren't on the same page. You know me, and I'm just getting to know you. I'm still at the beginning, but...I want to catch up. I just- I cant just skip hundreds of pages to get to where you are. I need you to wait for me," she looked up quickly, "only if you want to."

Draco stared at her, his eyes wide with shock.

"Please say something," she said, feeling the nerves creep in.

"Are you really making a book metaphor?" He asked, and began guffawing loudly.

She stuck her nose up in the air, offended. "It was appropriate!"

After a moment, he stopped laughing his eyes full of mirth. It was the happiest she'd seen him in a long time. After a moment, he answered her. "You don't even have to ask."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a velvet pouch. Draco watched her curiously. She handed it to him, watching nervously at he opened it.

He pulled out a silver fog watch, with a single shell engraved on the front. It matched her necklace.

"I cant give you what you want right now, but whenever I think or talk about you, this will grow warm. I want you to keep it so you don't feel alone, because I know you have for a long time."

He didn't say anything, but simply stared at the watch as it began to warm up in his fingers. Strangely enough, it provided him with comfort, but he would never tell anyone that.

"It will be good for timing how long you make me wait, too," he joked, but there was a twinkle in his eye that didn't go away.

They walked out shortly after, and found the three boys flying through the air again, they stopped and watched the two. They walked to the end of the path and stopped to say their goodbyes.

"I'll owl you," Hermione promised, excited at the prospect of letting the past go and starting fresh.

Draco nodded. "Oh, Granger, one last thing."

Draco grabbed her face and planted a passionate kiss right on her lips. She felt her head spinning, and after a moment he let go. The sound of wolf whistles and cheering could be heard from above them.

She stared at him in shock, her cheeks red. "That was like skipping from page one to the last page" she said, breathless.

He shrugged innocently, "Sometimes I like to read the last page first so I know how it ends."

She simply shook her head, and disappeared with a crack

Draco turned and began to walk up the path again. His expression turned to a pleased smirk when he felt the watch in his pocket grow hot.

And he never once let go of that watch. It always stayed with him. As school returned and the months went on, he was pleased to find it went from growing hot two or three times a day, to nine of ten. Eventually, it never went cold again. And that was when he knew.

He paced in his dorm one night, just days before graduation. Potter and Weasley sat on their beds watching him curiously. Hermione and himself had been seeing each other since the middle of their 7th year, and they still hadn't announced to anyone outside of their close friends. They had spoken about waiting until after they graduated, so they wouldn't have to put up with people's comments. However, Draco had grown restless, and he wanted to give everyone a big middle-finger before they left.

Finally, Blaise entered the dorm and noticed Draco's demeanour. He sighed.

"Don't ask me for my opinion again, I already said just do it." Blaise said, as he went and flopped onto his bed.

"You're hardly helpful, Zabini! Stop snogging Loony and actually give me some advice!"

Blaise growled into his pillow, "My advice is just bloody do it!"

Weasley and Potter shared a look. This same argument had happened every day for the past week.

"Well, my opinion is that you're both too young," Potter chimed in, "Live a little!"

Draco ignored him. "Fine! I'll bloody do it."

And this time he actually meant it.

* * *

><p>On the day of their graduation, the students piled into the hall. The 7th year students were dressed in their gowns, as the final speech by Dumbledore was about to be made.<p>

The hall was silent, and Dumbledore had just opened his mouth to speak before Draco shot up in his seat.

"Excuse me, sir!" He shouted, and his voice echoed around the large hall.

Blaise sunk in his seat next to him. He didn't think he would actually do it. Hundreds of eyes around the hall turned to stare at Draco, including those of the teachers, and Dumbledore. Hermione was staring at him with a curious, and slightly horrified expression.

Dumbledore fixed his glasses on his nose, as if to see who was speaking. "Ah, Mr Malfoy, what is so important that it has to be said in front of the whole assembly?"

Draco stepped over his seat, and began to walk up to where Dumbledore was standing, addressing the students.

"I'll just be a moment," Draco advised him, oblivious to the looks of horror on his friends faces.

Dumbledore, looking amused, allowed him to stand behind the podium.

Draco cleared his throat once, before he began talking.

"Now, many of you may remember a buck-toothed, frizzy-haired girl named Hermione Granger who started school in the same year I did." The hall turned to stare at Hermione's horrified expression, and many began guffawing, mostly from the Slytherin table. "She was a book-worm, and a know-it-all, well, she kind of still is. But the point is, I hated her-,"

"Mr Malfoy, if this is your speech it leaves much to be desired."

The hall was laughing loudly, and Hermione's face, much to Draco's ignorance, was a lovely shade of purple, she stood and stormed toward the hall doors.

"But I'm not finished-," Draco began, before noticing Hermione walking out.

"Hermione! Wait!" He cried above the noise. She stopped hesitantly, but the crowd was still laughing and chattering at his speech.

"Shut up, you idiots!" Draco cried in anger, "I'm trying to propose!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Draco interrupted Blaises retelling of the story, as the group fell into guffaws. "That's not how it happened."

The blond was looking thoroughly embarrassed.

Hermione chuckled, "I recall it went something very much like that."

Draco shrugged. "It was years ago, memories are bound to get foggy."

Weasley and Emily were seated on the opposite chair chuckling. Ginny, potter and Neville were all seated on the carpet it front of the fire. Luna and Blaise were tucked in each others embrace, and Draco and Hermione sat in the large chair near the coffee table, their hands entwined.

"More tea, anyone?" Luna offered, standing and grabbing the pot from the table. Blaise smiled at the engagement ring on her finger. They had all come to Zabini manor to celebrate.

Everyone declined, having already had two pots full.

"I will have more biscuits though," Hermione said, smiling sheepishly.

"I swear, Hermione," Potter began in awe, "you're appetite is putting Weasleys to shame lately. I predict you've got a strong future Quidditch captain growing in there." He nodded toward her protruding stomach.

Draco grinned from ear to ear at Potter's comment. He had been saying the same thing for months.

Later that night as they lay in bed, Draco rolled over and placed his hand on Hermione's stomach.

She could see by his expression, that something was on his mind.

"What is it?" She asked, placing her hand on his.

"I just want him to like me more than I liked my own father," Draco admitted.

Hermione frowned. "He'll love you, just like I love you."

Draco looked up at her. "It took you a long time to love me."

"Because you were an ass," She chuckled. He smirked, but she could see he was worried.

"What if I have to be like that to him sometimes?"

"He'll forgive you, and even if he says cruel things, you'll know they aren't true."

"How do you know?" He asked, looking worried.

"Because I know there's a fine line between love and hate, and sometimes people get confused."

He knew that, and it helped ease his doubts, if only for a moment.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thanks everyone for reading this story, and leaving heaps of positive reviews. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoyed it. **:)**


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